A New day, a New World
by Delta270
Summary: Some traveled through time to change their world, Others to avoid their fate. A few, though, have different plans entirely. This is the story of one such individual, stranded beyond his own time and fleeing from those he once called friends. An idea/characters that stemmed from a logical extension of an Awakening plot device. rated M for possible coarse language. Please, review!
1. Chapter 1: Alone

_Hello all, and welcome to this story of mine that I've been crafting. It was sort of an idea born from taking one of the main later-game plot devices of Fire Emblem: Awakening to new places and extents, though ones that would still seem logical within the context of the world. As of writing this, I'm at work on the seventh chapter, so I can say that (in my opinion at least), the story does pick up after the first few chapters. A lot longer too, considering that, at the time of writing this, chapter 6 is around 17000 words while chapter two is I think 2500. So, just in case this rewrite of chapter one, intended to make this whole story less amateur, doesn't really accomplish its goal, I implore you to at least give the rest of the story a chance, or to let me know what you didn't like. _

_Which brings me to my second point: __PLEASE REVIEW!__ I don't care who you are, if you liked it, if you disliked it, if you couldn't finish it for some reason. Let me know what you think and why, and I'll take it to heart, even if it's brutal. I value your feedback, and I want to write what people want to read. _

_And finally, something I have been accidentally neglecting: I do not own the vast majority of this, including the universe, most characters, the basic plot, etc. I am not writing this for profit, and do not intend to claim anything that belongs to Intelligent Systems or Nintendo as my own. Anyway, on to the beginning:_

* * *

It was a strange sensation, almost as if he was being assembled piece by piece where he lay on the ground. He was disoriented. Confused. Something was wrong, but what?

He needed to take this one step at a time. Where was he? In fact, who was he?

His name…Aiden. Right. It was starting to come back to him. Everything was still far too fuzzy.

The ground was covered in grass, that much he could tell. It was dark, but that could have been from the fact that he was lying face first.

Slowly, very slowly, Aiden got up. Everything hurt, and his head was spinning. Nothing was serious enough to warrant a healing item, luckily. He still didn't know what was going on, but he was healthy.

A quick glance around revealed a small, grassy clearing set in the middle of a forest. It was empty save himself and a long bundle next to his feet. The sky was dark, but the orange glow on the horizon meant that it was dusk. He shook his head to clear his senses. Odd that the moon was already so high in the sky...

Then he smelled the smoke.

That wasn't the sun setting in the distance. The forest ahead was burning, smoke billowing into the sky. What he thought had been his own unsteadiness was the trembling of the earth, and even through the haze, he could make out a massive wall of flame billowing out of the ground to the south. But this wasn't what held his attention.

Hanging high above, staring down like luminous eyes, an untold number of portals spewed dark shapes onto the landscape below.

Outrealm Gates. Like the one he had just travelled through.

That was right! The fog in his mind was clearing; he remembered running, fleeing in fact. He had activated the ritual, jumped through, and...fell. That whole process could have really gone better. In fact, Aiden was relatively certain that this wasn't where he had intended to go.

At least he didn't fall on the package. The package! Where was- by his feet. It made it through. Alright, at least one thing had gone well.

He really needed to get moving. The area was very quickly getting dangerous, and he didn't want to be around to find out what those dark shapes falling from the sky were.

Aiden checked his equipment to make sure nothing was damaged or out of place. Swordsman's gear, in place. Hardened lacquer plates on his chest and shoulders, segmented for mobility while still providing decent protection. A traveling cloak with a hood, for dealing with inclement weather. On his belt were two sheathes, each carrying a blade, commonly referred to as an "edge" due to its single-bladed nature. And...nothing else. No vulneraries, no food or drink, nothing. Great. His escape had been too quick to grab anything he wasn't already carrying. He'd have to stop somewhere for supplies; luckily he always kept a coin purse hidden on his person.

Figuring out where to eat could come later, he needed to move. He had no idea where he was, and consequently no idea where to go, but staying still would mean being caught by whatever was falling from those portals. And if his suspicions were correct, that would be a death sentence.

* * *

Aiden had been moving for a good twenty minutes now, and there was still no landmark or path to show him the way. On the bright side, he hadn't seen anyone or anything else. Just up ahead was a clearing, one that might provide some sense of direction, or at least a good view of the sky. Of course, this was assuming he hadn't just run in a giant circle.

Pushing through the brush, he emerged into the night. The clearing area he found himself in was much larger than the last, with what appeared to be the ruins of an old fort in the center. Rising prominently from the rubble was a large tower, aged by time but still standing. With any luck, it could give him a good view of his surroundings and perhaps show him a way out of the forest. It would also leave him exposed to anything that was looking, but he'd much prefer fighting out in the open as opposed to stumbling into something while blindly walking around the woods.

The fort had seen better days. Huge gaps in the walls allowed easy access into the central courtyard, though as the gate had long since rotted away, the walls would have been useless anyway. All he needed was that tower, though. If that was stable enough, it could be his guide.

He strode underneath the empty gateway, pausing to check his surroundings. The interior was long since overgrown, a grass field with a few boulders strewn about. Weeds grew through cracks in the rocks, and vines covered most available surfaces. There was a set of stairs, weathered but intact, heading into the tower.

Something stopped him, though. A few still shapes in the moonlight. Not boulders, or stone at all. In fact, they looked like bodies. Wait, bodies? A closer look confirmed Aiden's fears. Four prone forms were sprawled out, clustered near each other.

He was immediately down next to the nearest one, with two fingers two their neck. A pulse, good. Strong and steady. They were unconscious, not dead. More interesting to Aiden was the fact that he recognized the comatose individual. They had no more business here than he did. So why were they here?

They must have been sent after him. This wasn't good. He thought he'd have at least a few hours before anyone even noticed his theft. But here they were, and now his plan was in shambles.

He carefully checked them over. No one was injured, and, interestingly, they seemed to have very little in terms of supplies. Their departure had to have been sudden, too. If they left quickly, then they probably didn't have time to get outside assistance. Good for him. But if they didn't have someone else watching out for them, that might mean...

Yes! Buried in one satchel was a tome. The tome. It appeared simple enough. It was a small, white book that looked like any other spell tome, though the cover was blank. In truth, it was much more. Inside was transcribed an ancient ritual, meant originally for a time of great strife. The ritual was meant to open a portal between worlds, often called Outrealms, sending the caster to a world akin to their own, though set in the past. It was meant to be a way out if the world was collapsing. It allowed the traveler to survive and to forge a new fate for themselves.

The ritual itself, unused, was discovered and transcribed at great cost into this tome. No longer bound to the ritual from which it drew its power, the spell itself could be altered to reach other worlds beyond that which it was originally set for. It was more accurate and safer than an average Outrealm gate, if one could figure out how to use it, or so he had been told. Unfortunately, tearing open the fabric of reality was a dangerous proposal, so very few had dared experiment with it. Some daring mages with a thirst for knowledge had discovered how to use the gate, but with no knowledge of what could be on the other side and no desire to use it, few had ever tried traveling to another Outrealm.

At least, until he came along. It had been a brilliant plan, or so he thought. Steal the package, use the tome to escape to another realm, and hide until everything had blown over. They wouldn't be able to track him between realms, if they even suspected him of using the tome. He wasn't going to steal it, after all. He had no need, and it'd be a great way to cover his tracks. What kind of thief would leave it alone, if they had the access to it? Once everything had blown over, his contact back home was prepared to open a portal and find him. From there, they could enact the second step of his plan.

But now these four had followed him here. That meant that his contact might be compromised and that he was at risk. Well, that complicated things. He couldn't let these four remain in this timeline, that was certain. If he sent them back and kept the tome, he'd be safe. They'd be out of his hair, and stuck back in their own realm. Unfortunately, that meant keeping the tome. He couldn't be sure when it would be safe to go home, if ever, since he was now cut off from his only ally on the other side. To worsen the deal, he'd be stealing an incredibly powerful magic artifact. Well, another. He hadn't figured on this being part of the plan.

And yet, he didn't have much of a choice. He opened the tome and began, working through the spell very slowly and carefully. His magical abilities were limited, and it wouldn't be good to mess up a step. If something went wrong, there was no telling what would happen. At worst, he might wind up blown apart by ancient and powerful magical forces. At best, he'd open a portal to some entirely different Outrealm. Considering he had no idea where or when he was, he'd already made that mistake one too many times today.

He finished the spell and focused, channeling all his willpower into opening the Outrealm gate. He stood there for a solid minute, channeling everything he knew about spell casting, but the only thing to appear was a brief flash caused by an ember as it fel from the sky. The ritual hadn't worked at all. The four comatose figures were still in the courtyard, it was still night, the forest still burned in the distance.

Right, he was remembering more now. An interesting side effect of the conversion: when the ritual was transcribed to the spell tome, it lost its connection to its divine creator's power. It only worked at locations where the power of said creator, the god Naga, permeated the air. But now he found himself in the ruins of an old fort in a forest, so of course it wouldn't work.

What would he do with these four, then? Killing wasn't an option. He was a thief, not a murderer. Besides, he knew these people. He had considered them friends, once. There had to be another way. He could just keep running and hope they never found him. But considering that he had their only way home, they wouldn't give up until they found him. He wasn't going to turn himself in to them, that was certain.

Aiden had no idea where he was, but that was ok. All he needed was somewhere to hide out until everything was in place. His plan required patience, and as long as he wasn't recaptured, it could all still work out. In fact, having the tome at his disposal could expedite the process, since he wouldn't have to wait for help from his contact before enacting the second part of the process. That was still a long ways off, though. But he could wait. Assuming he could find somewhere that let him open an Outrealm gate, that was.

That was his number one priority, it seemed. He needed to get out of here, and he also needed his pursuers, still comatose, out of his hair. If he could find a place where Naga's power was palpable and open a portal, he could send them home and get himself out of here at the same time.

The only problem was that areas where Naga's power truly manifested itself weren't exactly common. Such areas that did exist were usually hard to reach without aid. Even then, people generally settled near these locations to be closer to their god, which meant more people to avoid, not to mention the difficulties of sneaking into an area they considered sacred. And, if he was correct about the identity of those…things, they would probably be drawn to those same focal points that he would need in great numbers. If that wasn't enough, he had these four after him. The best location he could think of, assuming he was even on the correct continent, was Mount Prism. It was isolated, serene, and most certainly sacred to Naga.

The issue would be getting there. If he was anywhere nearby, there would still be travel involved, along with all the risks that came with it, while trying to avoid being captured by his former friends. Maybe he should just turn himself in. After all, this was getting more and more daunting by the minute-

A low groan, really more like a hiss, came from behind him. Aiden turned, and came face to face with a nightmare.

Crawling over the remains of the wall was a corpse. Its skin was thin and purple tinged. The garb it wore, most likely a fighter's, was torn and tattered, and its axe, though pitted and rusted, gleamed sharply in the moonlight. It hobbled over to the edge of the wall, moving in a jerking, stuttering fashion, its limbs contorted at unnatural angles. It jumped down, and looked up. The face that stared out was inhuman, withered and scarred, and was dark despite the blazing red glow of its eyes. When it hissed again, a small tendril of shadow seeped from its maw. The creature was followed over the wall by another, this one using a sword and wearing a shoulder plate common to mercenaries.

The Risen had found him. Of course. They were instinctively drawn to defile anything linked to Naga, and here he was, holding such an object. There was only one way this would end.

Aiden drew his blades.

They charged.

Damn, they were fast! The fighter was first, closing the distance in seconds. It wound up and swung from above. His offhand blade came up, catching the axe and driving it to the side as it came down. Then the other edge came up, slicing across the now unprotected Risen's front. It stumbled back, axeless, as a third strike ended its life.

A sword strike just barely dodged reminded him of the second Risen. It swung again and he caught the strike on his blade, and then drove forward with his shoulder, pushing it back. It lunged forward with the sword, so he sidestepped the wild attack. The move had taken him within range of the monster, so he drove his elbow into his face and followed with a blade strike. The Risen fell to the ground and started to dissipate into a shadowy mist. It was dead.

They were already here. Those abominations that he had been so desperate to avoid had found him anyway. They were more horrible than any story could tell. And he just killed two of them. There seemed to be no more Risen around him, but he could no longer assume that this area was safe. The longer Aiden stayed in one spot, the greater the chance that they would be drawn by the book he carried. He could leave now, hopefully throwing any of the undead creatures that sensed him off his trail. At the very least, it would draw them away from the sleeping bodies he refused to let die. It would have been simpler to forget about them, but he wasn't so sure he could live with himself if he did.

* * *

The rest of the night was spent walking, running, or fighting. Risen would show up, die, and be replaced. The forest was mostly enclosed, but Aiden had managed to find a path well-worn into the dirt. It went north and south, though there was really only one direction he could go. To the south, a massive slab of rock has risen high above the surrounding terrain, creating a great chasm that spewed molten rock and fire across the forest. It completely blocked any travel in that direction, and so he headed north.

It would have taken immense force to create the chasm, but Aiden had no doubt that it was related to the portals that had filled the sky minutes earlier. Some strange magic was the culprit, and was probably responsible for knocking him so far off course. It wasn't too outlandish that whatever magic the Outrealm portals relied on had altered the destination of his own. Such things had ha-

Fighting. Gods, it was close. There was the clang of weapons on weapons and armor, the sound of thunder, the shrieks of Risen, and the sound of shouting that was currently incomprehensible through the trees. Who was fighting? And could Aiden afford to step in?

Luckily, he didn't have to make a choice. The noise very quickly died down, leaving only silence. He snuck closer, curious, but aware he might stumble onto a field of corpses and a horde of Risen.

"You saved my sister's life." Wait, he knew that voice. But it couldn't be. Why would-

"My name is Chrom. May I ask yours?" It was him. That didn't make sense. Why would Chrom be here? And who was he speaking to?

"You may call me Marth." Damn. That voice was familiar, but something kept him from placing it. It couldn't be who he thought it was. There was no way.

"Really? After the heroic king of old? You certainly fight like a hero. Where did you learn your way with a sword?"

"I'm not here to talk about me. The world teeters on the brink of a horrible calamity. What you saw tonight was but a prelude. You have been warned." Yeah, they had. So had Aiden. The Risen had made it abundantly clear, even without the ominous and entirely vague warning. Things were starting to make sense. That warning…

"The what's teetering on the edge of where now?" That voice sounded young. There wasn't a response.

"Not much for conversation, is he?" Another voice, someone who hadn't spoken yet. Footsteps approached Aiden's position as he knelt beneath the underbrush. He needn't have bothered, as the masked figure who ran past was too preoccupied to check their surroundings.

"...I am sure we will see him again. But for now, I am more concerned about the capital. We should make haste." Whoever that was, they were oddly focused. They'd just been attacked by the undead, seen the ground split open and belch fire, and met someone naming themselves after an ancient hero, and their first thoughts were about those in the capital.

That meant that they were leaving. They, too, chose to walk right past his hiding place. He was able to get a quick glance at the group. A blue-haired man that could only be Chrom led the group, followed by a man in a long black coat, carrying a thunder tome. He had a mass of black, somewhat unruly hair and a determined gaze. Following closely behind was a tall, dark-haired knight astride a horse, and a young, blonde woman with pigtails and a healing staff. He made no movement as they passed by, unaware of their observer.

That conversation had been far more useful than he could have hoped for. Chrom's presence, Marth, the Outrealm gates, the split in the earth, the warning…combined with what Aiden knew from stories he had heard told and retold, everything together told him what he needed to know. He may have been in the wrong place, but he was in the right time.

A lot was going to happen in the next few months, the next few years even, though he hoped he would not stay that long. He could use the turmoil to lay low and prepare. When he was ready, he could figure out how to send his pursuers back to their own time, and then follow through with his plan.

Aiden already knew his next destination: Ylisstol. It was a lot of people, and so a high level of risk, but he was undersupplied and didn't have much in the way of a plan. The city could provide all of this, hopefully.

As he stepped back onto the trail, the swordsmaster raised his hood. It would help him remain anonymous, which was exactly what he wanted. Finally, after months of planning, he had taken action. One small step, but it had been enough.

There was no going back now.

* * *

_Alright, hello everyone. I hope that this was at least moderately enjoyable. This is my first real attempt at writing fiction, so I hope it isn't too terrible. Check my profile for author's notes and explanations._

_There are original characters in this story. Quite a few. But it is, and has always been, my effort to make believable characters, ones who could actually make sense within the context of the story and mesh with canonical or gameplay established rules and roles. A lot of things I do with original characters has a role, though it may not be so obvious at first. This is also not a self-insert, that oh-so-popular genre, judging by top stories here. Not because I have anything against them, but because thatt's not the story I want to tell (not to mention I wouldn't last two seconds outside the modern world). Nonetheless, if you just hate original characters in every way, this story isn't for you._

* * *

_Hah. Looking back on this, I'm amazed by all the flaws I could find. It hasn't even been that long! Are all the first drafts of my chapters like this? Anyway, I hope that this update makes the story as a whole seem less crazy. I worry that I may have retroactively created some issues with the next two chapters. Please, if you read further, understand this should you come across one. Better yet, let me know! I'm probably going to be redrafting those two at some point anyway._

_Thanks! And REVIEW! Please, your feedback can only help._


	2. Chapter 2: Hunters

"Behind you!"

Instinctively, she rolled forward. The axe found itself buried in the ground where she had just been, while its wielder found itself ablaze, courtesy of a timely fire spell.

"Thanks."

"No problem. That's four for me." Brilliant, he was keeping track of his kills. Leave it to Martin to find something to joke about in the middle of combat. He never seemed to take anything seriously. When he did, though, he was a force to be reckoned with. He had chosen to focus on both sword and spell with the intent of having a diverse set of skills. Complementing this was a sharp wit and a knack for anticipating enemy movements. He often acted foolishly, but he wouldn't be at her back if she couldn't trust him when the situation called for it.

Another Risen, this one a soldier wielding a lance, approached. A clumsy swing was brushed to the side and her own lance found its mark, dissipating the creature into black smoke. It had been three seconds. She couldn't help but smirk

"Seven." She might as well play along, if only to watch Martin's face fall.

His retort was cut off by a shout.

"I need help!"

Martin immediately took off towards the yell, and she followed close behind. The source wasn't hard to find; an archer, surrounded, was trying to fend off three Risen. To make matters worse, two more were closing fast. She seemed to be handling herself fine against the first three, using a knife to keep them at bay, but the Risen reinforcements might tip the scale.

Martin charged in with a fire spell, one Risen disappearing in a pillar of flame. She was only a step behind, skewering another Risen all too distracted by its prey. Martin drew his sword and cut down the third. The Risen that thought to help their allies suddenly found themselves cut down, the suddenly unopposed archer swiftly cutting them down before they could get close.

"Could you cut it a bit closer, Lyta?" Martin asked the archer, only half joking.

"Hey, I called you this time, didn't I?" Lyta retorted.

"Both of you, save it for the Risen. If you hadn't noticed, a few escaped." She pointed to a few remaining undead, running off towards the tree line. Martin grabbed his tome and started running after them. Lyta just nocked an arrow, waiting. Calling her an archer wasn't telling the full story, really. She could use a sword as well as any of them, though she preferred a knife when the enemy got too close. Her real talent, though, was her ability to blend in wherever she was. She had boundless patience and a sense for her surroundings, allowing her to pass unseen when she wanted. This skill had been augmented by her cloak, one side of which had been covered in haphazard green, brown, and gray splotches. This proved very useful in a forested environment such as this, where it broke up her profile and allowed her to blend in with the undergrowth. It was almost a rite of passage to be caught off guard by her sudden disappearances. Unfortunately, some of her talent towards hiding had even found its way into her day-to-day routine: she never left home without her cowl drawn over her face. Lyta spoke up.

"What's he at now?" Of course Lyta was in on Martin's game. She was usually encouraging him, for some reason.

"With that rescue you let him pull off, he's at 6." Lyta only nodded, and drew back.

"Poor sap. With this," she let fly, and there was suddenly one less Risen, "I'm at 13." That explained it. With all her skill, Lyta should have been able to get out of a trap like that if she tried. The fact that she hadn't was odd. By the sound of things, it was probably out of pity. Martin needed the help.

She started walking toward Martin and the remaining Risen. She had to make sure that he didn't hurt himself.

In truth, Martin was actually handling himself quite well. They all were. This was their third skirmish with the Risen ever since they found themselves laid out in a ruined fortress. A quick check around had revealed that the portal tome they brought with them was gone. If the Risen had been drawn to its power, they surely would have already been dead, killed in their sleep. But with no other lead, they had set off, hoping to at least make it out of the forest.

A fireball set the last of the fleeing Risen low, but something was bothering her.

"The Risen don't seem the kind to run. So why did they-"

Martin cut her off, pointing at a rapidly approaching cloud of dust. "They've got horses!"

It was a trap! With the two of them out in the open, the cavalry could engage. She could make out five shapes, cavaliers by the looks of them. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem. But no matter how skilled the rider, a charge was dangerous. As the Risen drew closer, she suddenly felt very exposed.

Martin shouted out, and she moved to the side. A second later the horses thundered by, far too close for comfort. As she picked herself up, she saw one rider fall from its saddle, an arrow in its head. Good, Lyta was in range. Martin turned to look at her.

"Alright, I'll take the two on the right. You take the two on the left. Watch out for charges. We only need to distract them long enough for Lyta to line up another shot, or to get back into the trees, where we can surround them. Cainne, do what you do best."

With that, he sent a fireball blazing towards one of his targets, leaving her to figure out what to do with hers. The riders were coming around again, trying to make another pass. Her lance was short, made for close fighting or mounted combat. Trying to stop a charging cavalier with it would only result in her being run over by a dead horse. That left her with only one option. Martin _had_ said to do what she did best, after all.

She inverted her lance and planted it in the ground. She wouldn't be needing it. Then she started running towards the enemy. Her hand went to the small stone hanging on a cord around her neck, and she felt a slight tugging sensation in her stomach as she reached for the energy within.

Then she _changed_. There was an unusual, but not uncomfortable sensation as bones shifted and elongated. Fur sprouted over her skin as she shifted form, limbs lengthening and bending. A specially designed system of straps and rings attached to the joints of her armor stretched and unfolded to accommodate the change, leather flexing and metal shifting as the wearer completely changed form. Suddenly, everything on the battlefield came into sharp focus. She could make out the individual hairs on each animal's head and almost predict where each cavalier was headed, even through the dust clouds the horses kicked up. She could smell the horse's perspiration and the char from Martin's latest spell. She could feel the ground beneath her paws. And she could hear everything. The beat of hooves against dirt, the calls of her ally trying to contain his enemy, the twang of a bowstring as Lyta responded, bringing down another rider. She could even detect the increase in the horses' heart rates as they noticed the threat that now stood in front of them.

It was almost a pity that the Risen didn't feel fear. Now, for their obstinacy, they would face the wrath of a Taguel.

The three remaining horses, scared, broke their charge and reared back. Cainne took the opportunity and lunged at the nearest rider. The creature didn't even have time to react before it was unhorsed and pinned to the ground. A bite to the throat finished it.

This of course drew the attention of the other two riders, who turned to face the Taguel. Cainne took a step back, settling into a fighting stance. The first one lunged with a spear, so she jumped sideways and swung at the mount. It fell, the rider tumbling to the ground. Before she could finish it off, the second cavalier was there, swinging at her with a sword, driving her back.

Only then did she hear the galloping. Cainne had been so absorbed by the battle that she hadn't noticed a sixth rider approaching from behind, quickly. Even worse, she had nowhere to go. Going backwards would get her trampled, but trying to dodge out of the way would leave her vulnerable to the sword wielder. She dodged to the side. A sword wound was better than being trampled into the dust.

The Risen wasn't paying attention to her anymore, though. It was focused on the axe that knocked it out of its saddle as a lithe figure in light plate armor, the sixth rider, galloped past. He slowed his mount, coming to face the Taguel.

"So the demonic rabbit strikes again! Though apparently not quite quickly enough," he said, flourishing his axe.

"I had it under control, Shione. You just cleaned up the scraps. And if you ever call me a demonic rabbit again-"

"I'm just happy to be of service," he said with a mocking bow, before riding off. Despite his confidence, he rode like there were demons, or perhaps a demonic hare, behind him.

The Risen that Cainne had unhorsed had already been dispatched by Martin, who was now checking over their immediate surroundings, looking for any other threats. For now, it seemed like they were safe. Cainne shifted back and went to retrieve her lance. She grimaced at the foul taste in her mouth. Risen was not something anyone should ever have to taste. No more biting attacks, she decided. Shione and Lyta were already on their way to rejoin Martin. Soon, the four had regrouped just outside the shadows of the forest.

"Shione, showing up at the last minute, as always. How'd you do?" Martin asked.

"If you're curious about my kill count for that silly competition of yours, it's two." Martin's triumphant grin was cut off as Shione continued to speak. "I did manage to find a fair amount of important information, however. Not only that; I found a horse," He said, gesturing over to his newly acquired steed. It had been tied to a tree with three of the remaining horses that the Risen had used, gathered by Shione after the battle. He'd always had a way with horses and other creatures, which was why he preferred mounted combat. Lyta, astutely, saw something was wrong.

"I was wondering why you'd decided to demote yourself to a common, everyday horse. Don't you usually prefer something more...flighty?"

"I didn't have time to get to the stables when we were called to find Aiden. We all rushed, things were forgotten or left behind. And I'd rather have a mount, even one stolen by the Risen, than fight on the ground with you peasants," he finished, only half kidding.

Right, Aiden. The reason they were here, wherever "here" was. She'd been able to put that out of her mind during combat, but now the situation had again reared its ugly head. For some reason, Aiden had decided to steal some very important relics. The four of them, as his onetime friends, were sent to stop him. The warning had come quickly, luckily. Had no one detected the theft sooner, he'd have escaped, and they'd have no idea where to look. As it was, their hasty response had allowed them to track him to, and then through, a portal. They just had to find him. Somehow.

"You said you had important information?" Martin continued, bringing Cainne out of her thoughts. She should be paying attention.

"Right. As you know, I went scouting to try to figure out where we were. Well, I managed to get the jump on a lone Risen rider, probably doing the same thing I was. Since they seem to prefer living mounts, I was able to take his horse and find the road. A few miles from here is a rest station for merchants, caravans, and the like. According to the owner, last night was a bit troublesome. He says that the ground near here opened up and spewed flame, and that a few hundred white lights appeared all around the countryside. I think we can agree that's not normal," he said, using his characteristic sharp tongue. "Apparently the Risen started showing up after the lights disappeared." Martin spoke up, cutting Shione off.

"It'd probably be safe to assume that those lights were portals. That explains how the Risen got here. We still don't know why, though."

"I was getting to that! Apparently, a caravan that was resting for the night came under attack. They would have been done for, but a hooded man with two swords saved them. Now-" Lyta cut him off.

"That sounds like Aiden! So we know that he was here, like us." Shione, somewhat flummoxed, continued.

"That's not all. The man says that he could see a spell tome of some sort tied to the man's side. Said it was pure white and unmarked. As I was saying-"

"He managed to take the tome from us. That isn't good." Cainne said, though they were all thinking it. Then Martin spoke.

"He can't do much with it right now. Anywhere that it could be used is bound to be inaccessible for a single traveler. It'd either be too far away or too dangerous to be convenient. And remember, from what we know, he might have been just as rushed, if not more, in his escape. If I were Aiden, I'd be headed towards the nearest city for supplies and a place to hide out. He has the tome we brought, so he knows we're here. He can't actually do anything about it, though. Not without taking some extreme measures."

"If you will let me speak," Shione almost shouted, "I think I know where he's headed. The owner said that the caravan was headed to the nearest city, to the north. Ylisstol. Here's the interesting thing, though," He stopped, making sure he wasn't about to be interrupted again. "When I first showed up at his door, the owner assumed that I was part of the Ylissean Guard, here to deal with a bandit problem. Apparently they've been a problem here on the border for some time. The man says they look and sound like they're Plegian, but so far nothing has been done."

"The earth broke open, Risen are appearing everywhere, and Plegia might be raiding Ylisse? This doesn't bode well," Cainne spoke. "In fact, it sounds like the precursor to the war."

"Unfortunately, I think Cainne is right. We all knew time and place might vary between Outrealms," Martin said, "but if we don't find Aiden soon, we might be getting a very dangerous history lesson, very soon. We have to get going, and pick up some supplies while we're at it. I'd recommend heading to Ylisstol."

There was a small chorus of affirmations, and it was decided. They would go to the capital and prepare for their search. If things went smoothly, they might be home soon. If not, they were looking at an increasingly dangerous hunt. Cainne knew which she'd prefer.

* * *

_Hey everyone, thanks for reading! _

_This marks the second chapter of what I've been thinking of as the "exposition block", three chapters at the beginning of this story whose purpose is to set up the story. I promise that things get more interesting, and more Fire Emblem relevant, starting with chapter 4._

_I'm posting this earlier than expected, because I've decided that I want to get through this exposition block as quickly as possible, and because I finished my third chapter already (as I said before, I'm keeping at least one chapter in reserve in case my schedule gets a lot more intense. This is a distinct possibility.)_

_Please, check the author profile for more information on this chapter._

_Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	3. Chapter 3: The City

Ylisstol: a cultural marvel. A city fortified for war, but founded on peace. The central castle, visible even from beyond the city limits, had been built on hillside long ago. Even now it towered over the countryside, watching over the city below it. Even in the days of the first Exalt, the site had been promising enough that it was declared the seat of power for the new nation. Since then, the city had developed and been changed many times over the years, eventually approaching its current form under the rule of the last Exalt. The fortified walls and towers surrounding the city were his creations; he wanted to ensure the safety of his capital while he went to war.

Many of those fortifications now stood dormant, unneeded in the light of Ylisse's new place in the world. Now, those soldiers stationed here intended to keep the peace rather than break it. Ylisstol had flourished under the current Exalt's peaceful and benevolent rule. Market stalls and stores lined many streets, their wares bringing in trade and new ideas. People of all kinds crowded the city, both residents and visitors. Above it all stood the castle, converted to a majestic symbol of the nation's devotion to peace.

This would be any visitor's first view of Ylisstol, and it would have been Aiden's, if he wasn't stuck at the gate.

"For the last time, I cannot let you in." The speaker was a member of the Ylissean Guard. A foot soldier, by the looks of things, assigned with the rest of his unit to guard the main entrance to the city. He was also in Aiden's way.

"Do I look like an undead menace to you?"

"I don't know, because you won't lower that hood of yours. You're obviously alive, I'll give you that, but those creatures are only the most recent on our list of problems. In case you haven't noticed, bandit attacks in the countryside are becoming more and more frequent. They're getting bolder, and deadlier. So no, I'm not going to allow an unknown, obviously armed stranger into the city, especially if they refuse to allow me to even see their face."

Apparently even peaceful cities still stepped up the security at any sign of trouble. That would make it harder for him. It wasn't wise to be a wanted criminal when security forces were wary. No, it would be best if no one could even recognize his face. The hood would stay up.

"If you refuse to cooperate, I must ask you to please move on. You're holding up-"

"Hold on there! I can vouch for this man!" Oh, thank the gods. It was Lindon, the owner of a caravan he'd traveled here with. The man was short and stocky, but his charisma made up for his lack in stature. "He saved my caravan a few days back, and my livelihood with it. He's with me." The guard grumbled slightly, but agreed. He walked away with Lindon to look over the merchant's goods. It looked like Aiden was in.

Truly, Lindon had been a blessing. He had provided a safe and comfortable ride to Ylisstol in exchange for Aiden's protection, and his companionship had made the days on the road pass much more quickly. Now he had just cleared the way into Ylisstol. It had been a stroke of luck to find such good company headed in the exact direction he needed to go. Even better, Lindon and his people respected Aiden's privacy. If it had been any other merchant, things could have gone differently. If it had been one of the Annas, for example, he'd probably have walked away that night after paying for the privilege of fighting off a Risen horde.

He noticed that Lindon was approaching, having concluded whatever business he needed to finish before entering the city. The man put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in closer before speaking.

"In the future, you might want to leave the stubborn streak behind. Even the best merchants know when to stop haggling."

"Thanks for the advice, but I'm not stubborn. I just couldn't comply with that request," Aiden responded. Lindon just chuckled.

"He stubbornly refutes his own stubbornness. Ha! In any case, I just want to thank you again for your help. The only reason I'm at market here is because of you. If you need any help while I'm in the city, let me know."

"Thank you, but I should be fine. I'm no stranger to the city. It's been nice working with you, Lindon." With that, he turned, and walked into the city.

Aiden was in Ylisstol, finally. Now he just needed to figure out what to do with himself. Here he was, nameless, just before the outbreak of a major war. Worse was to come in the next few years. And until he could find some way to Mount Prism, he was stuck here.

As he mulled his problems over, what had seemed like a problem before was starting to look like an opportunity. He had left home with the intention of finding somewhere safe to hide, and to train for battles to come in his line of work. This realm didn't seem exactly safe, but what better place was there for a warrior to train than battle? He could perfect his own skill and perhaps find some allies in the months to come. When the time finally came, he would be much better prepared to face the challenges to come. A bit of training would make his return home a lot easier, at the very least. If he could remain here until the time when he could prove himself, that would be even better.

Unfortunately, that time wouldn't come for another few years, at least. It'd be a long wait, but he wasn't going to be doing anything else for a while anyways. And with the amount of work he'd need to put in to pull this off, he might need all that extra time.

He was getting ahead of himself, though. More important than his ultimate goal was his current situation. Lindon had been a good travelling companion, but now he was on his own. He had very little in terms of food or supplies, but he did have some coin. And what better a place was there to experience a thriving market than Ylisstol?

Aiden started walking towards the markets. As he walked, he thought. Before he could go about enacting his plan, he'd need to establish himself here. His coin would only last so long, and he didn't have a way to make more yet. For that matter, he didn't have a place to sleep, either. This was troubling, but he'd think more on it later. The throngs of people around him seemed to be unusually excited about something. As he walked, Aiden managed to catch a few fragments of conversation in the crowd around him.

"-Going to deal with those bandits, I hear."

"-Some sort of diplomatic mission. They're-"

"This doesn't bode well, I think. Why else would the Shepherds be needed?"

Shepherds? If they were involved, he had to pay attention. A vendor was hawking trinkets and bargain magical items nearby. While "bargain" magic was at the least useless and at the most dangerous, the man looked to have stablished himself here. He might know what was going on. Aiden walked over.

"Excuse me, sir. I was hoping you could tell me what has everyone excited," he asked. The shopkeeper stared at him for a few seconds, then spoke.

"I'm surprised you ain't heard already. A whole bunch of them Shepherds marched off earlier today. Heard it was something to do with Ragna Ferox. I haven't ever seen a more motley collection of people, and in the company of a prince, too. Wouldn't be surprised if a fair portion of them were mercenaries or brigands he found on the road. That prince seems to have a fondness for some very odd folks. Now, you gonna buy somethin'?"

Aiden declined, but handed the man a few coins for his troubles. The man had earned them. Prince Chrom was headed for Ragna Ferox? That meant that things were escalating. Ylisse was calling out to its allies, fearful of what might come.

The man had said something else, though, that stuck with him. He'd thought that a few of the Shepherds were mismatched enough to be mercenaries, a valid thought. Inadvertently, he also gave Aiden an idea.

Mercenary work might be the key. It'd provide a source of income, a place to stay, and an easy path to making friends, as much as anyone in that business could be friendly. He was an accomplished warrior, so it probably wouldn't be too hard to enlist. With the war coming, there would be no shortage of work, either.

As he walked into the market, Aiden was much more at ease than when he first arrived. He had a plan now, one that could work. He wasn't wandering this new world blindly anymore. In fact, except for the rumble in his stomach, he felt better than he had in a long time. Finally, he was free, and no one was going to stop him now.

Riding was not Lyta's forte. She could pick off a target at a few hundred yards, crack even the most complex locks, disappear into any wooded area with just a little preparation, and even cast a spell or two. But As soon as she got on a horse, all her training went out the window. Horses were fundamentally opposed to what she did. A horse belonged on the plains, not tramping through the woodlands she knew. A horse couldn't be stealthy. Obviously, A horse didn't have the manual dexterity to use a bow and arrow. And as she was rapidly learning, a horse lacked the capacity to feel anything but hatred towards her. That was the only explanation for why any horse she had ever tried to ride had never seemed to pay any attention to the directions she gave it. No matter how hard she pulled on the reins or spurred the animal on, the response was always the same: the horse continued on its own path, at its own pace. Occasionally, it graced her with a derisive snort. This particular beast had decided to follow its kin, luckily, so she wasn't too far behind.

No one else was having any problems, of course. Shione, ever the mounted savant, had taken the lead, guiding their small party through all manner of trails and roads on the path to Ylisstol. As usual, Martin had adapted to riding as if it were second nature. Even Cainne, who preferred to transform and outpace a horse had no trouble coaxing her beast where she wanted it to go.

If only Lyta could do the same. Instead, she was stuck at the back of the line, hoping that her horse kept its interest in the others. At least no one would notice her troubles, as long as they didn't look back.

"Hey Lyta, is something wrong?" Of course, someone had. As usual, it was Martin. That man was always the source of her consternation, and to make matters worse, he didn't even realize that he was doing it! One day, she'd-

"Uh, Lyta? You ok?" Of course, she'd been lost in her thoughts again. Great.

"I'm fine, thanks. Let's just get there already, ok?" In response, Shione spoke up.

"We should be able to see the city soon. We'd have made it quicker if a certain someone hadn't insist we stop at every inn we visited," he said, glaring pointedly at Martin.

"I just wanted to make sure everyone was ok. We don't all have your training in the saddle," Martin replied. "We didn't have food or supplies, either. Without my stops, and the generosity of those farm people, we'd have all starved before we got here."

"Speak for yourself, human. I could have hunted," Cainne replied.

"And I am sure that there's a colony of carrots out there somewhere who is very grateful that I made sure you didn't," Martin retorted. Everyone was being friendly, but Lyta saw that this could escalate quickly. They had been traveling for a few days, and even Martin's stops hadn't been nearly enough respite. They were all weary and tired of traveling, so they were irritable. As much as she didn't want to draw attention to her predicament, she'd have to do something to calm them down. With this group, it was almost business as usual.

"Hey Cainne, have you considered what you'll do when we reach Ylisstol? I hate to say it, but you're kind of conspicuous. People with large, floppy ears are a little too uncommon."

"I'd thought about it, but nothing's come to mind. I guess I'll have to stay out of the city, unless our tactician's figured out something better," Cainne responded. Her tone suggested that she expected something brilliant or horribly stupid. Martin turned to face her, sheepishly.

"Sorry, but no. On the bright side, we need someone to keep an eye around the city, in case we're wrong about Aiden's need to stay there."

"I can accept this," Cainne responded. Lyta breathed a sigh of relief. That had gone a lot better than she'd hoped. Cainne could be unexpectedly volatile. Lyta had been trying to think of what to do about the conspicuous Taguel, but had come up short. She'd been ready to offer up her hooded cloak, but she imagined that trying to wear it with large, sensitive ears would not be something Cainne would agree with. Besides, she liked her cloak. They crested a hill, and Shione spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Ylisstol." He gestured towards an amazing sight. In the light cast by the sunset, they could see the magnificent city, sprawled across the land before them. Candles and lanterns were starting to be lit, so the city seemed to sparkle in the sun's dying light. It was somewhat magical. Lyta looked around to see her companions staring in awe. They must have been having similar thoughts. After the time they had spent traveling, it seemed too fantastical to be true. Unfortunately, reality beckoned to Lyta.

"It will be dusk soon, and the gates are probably already closed. We should try to make camp for the night."

The rest of the group murmured their assent, and got to work. Shione went off to find firewood to chop while Martin set about unpacking some sleeping rolls a few farmers, thankful for their aid against the Risen, had given them. Lyta set off to try to find something to hunt. It was going to be a long day tomorrow, and they'd need their energy.

Robin shouldn't have been surprised that the Risen were here. They'd spread very far in the first few days since their appearance, if the rumors were anything to judge by. He'd prepared for conflict. What he hadn't prepared for was a large, shirtless man who somehow managed to forget the massive battleaxe he carried with him. The Risen skirmishing party had taken advantage of a nearby river crossing too set up a checkpoint, of sorts. It was a good tactic for a bunch of mindless husks. It wasn't good enough, however, Not with Robin managing the Shepherds. Even if one of them was a little more…forgetful than the rest.

How had Robin become the Shepherd's tactician, anyway? Before now, he'd been some random guy in a field that somehow knew the name of someone he didn't know. He wasn't exactly the star candidate for a tactician. For some reason, though, Chrom trusted him, even if Frederick didn't. To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure he trusted himself. That dream had been far too ominous. Robin was determined, though. He'd prove himself to these Shepherds. For a group of people he'd barely known the day before, he cared for them a lot. He'd make sure that no harm came to them.

The battle was going well, fortunately. The men and women around him were obviously experienced in combat, able to give to the enemy much more than they got in return. As usual, Frederick was a bulwark between his lord and the enemy, striking down any that dared approach. The two cavaliers, Sully and Stahl, were travelling around the sides of the main force, darting in to strike the enemy's flanks when they saw a chance. The self-proclaimed "Archest of Archers", Virion, was doing a good job of staying out of the enemy's range, using the others as cover while he struck down weakened foes. Lissa was staying back with Vaike, ready to heal any serious wounds, a role that was quickly proving unnecessary.

He noticed someone approaching quickly from behind. Judging from the oversized hat and the spell tomes, it had to be Miriel, the mage Stahl had mentioned. For some reason, she was carrying a large axe. The mystery was solved when, moments later, she walked over to Vaike and handed it over, a look of disappointment on her face. At least someone in this group was sensible enough to notice an oversized axe on the ground.

Noticing a gap in the enemy's formation, he charged in. This battle would be over soon, and with any luck, they'd be at the Feroxi border in a few days. He had no way of knowing what he had done before he woke up in that field. Now, though, was different. He was a tactician with something to prove, and he would make sure he did just that.

He shouldn't have taunted fate like that. In his arrogance, Aiden had defied the gods, claiming that he couldn't be stopped. Their intervention must have been the cause for his failure. No matter how hard he tried, Aiden was continually running up against an immovable obstacle in his path.

He couldn't haggle.

No matter how hard he worked, he could not get a single merchant to part with their wares for a reasonable price. Food hadn't been a problem; that usually came with a set price. He'd managed to find some cheap lodgings, though it came with the hidden cost of being located in one of the less respectable parts of town. That meant the surrounding neighborhood was a bit more crowded than the main street, a bit louder, and supposedly more dangerous. If his own lodgings were anything to go by, it was dirtier, too. Nevertheless, he'd gotten the basic necessities, for now.

Anything beyond that was proving to be impossible. As he was currently operating alone, he'd thought it a good idea to stock up on vulneraries and elixirs, a spare blade in case one of his broke, as well as a change of clothes. It was a pretty simple, if somewhat pricey, list. Or so he thought.

The tailors in the city marketed all sorts of clothing, but anything battle-ready was not sold, apparently. Neither were weapons of any kind, if the smiths were to be believed. Apparently there wasn't any sort of market in the city founded on peace. The only buyers were the guards and royalty, and they had their own sources. All that left Aiden with was the healing supplies. That wasn't turning out well either.

"Listen, please, I'm not going to buy a package of vulnerary tonic for 1000 gold. That's practically highway robbery! Is there any way you can go lower?"

"I'll have you know that these goods are of the highest quality! Our customers include royalty. You should be thanking me for being as generous as I am." Aiden glared at the shopkeeper, whose small roadside stand placed in the cheapest part of town certainly didn't service royalty. He opened his mouth, but his retort was cut off by someone in the crowd bumping against him as they passed.

Of course he'd just been pick pocketed. That was a common enough strategy, almost to be expected in this part of the city. He didn't need to be an experienced thief to know that his money pouch was gone, untied by nimble fingers. This was not what he needed today.

There! Making their way out of the crowd was a kid, moving away from Aiden as quickly as possible without seeming conspicuous. It wasn't enough, though. Aiden saw him fumbling with a small satchel, trying to hide it. He started walking towards the kid, leaving the shopkeeper to stammer on about their quality wares. Sure enough, the kid noticed, and took off. Aiden shoved his way through the crowd and followed.

The kid was quick, but he was quicker. Had this been an open field, he'd have caught the thief in no time. The city street was far from open, however. People and market stalls were everywhere, and buildings could block the view of a side street until Aiden was almost on top of it. The little pickpocket could duck under crowds Aiden had to go around, and he knew the city well.

He turned a corner with Aiden right behind him, grabbing at someone's purse as he went. While he was unsuccessful, he hadn't really wanted it anyway. The crowd turned to see the source of the commotion, and all they saw was a hooded man running at full sprint. They went to stop the perceived pickpocket, letting the real one get away. Aiden saw the crowd forming around him, saw an unoccupied market stall, and did something stupid. He sprinted towards the stall and jumped over it, cutting off the crowd behind him. He hit the ground with a roll, and kept going. The kid, who had stopped to admire his handiwork, stared at him with wide eyes before taking off around a corner.

Aiden made the turn, only to be confronted with yet another wall of people. He pushed his way through, only to see a dead end. The kid was gone, with all his money. There was literally nothing here. Somehow, the pickpocket had vanished.

Aiden was about to turn around and give up for the day when he heard a door slam shut nearby. The source seemed to be a bar. It had seen better days, obviously. The sign was dingy enough as to be unreadable, though Aiden thought he could make out a stag behind all the dirt. Despite the disrepair, there was light shining from beyond the grimy windows. Perhaps the thief had gone in there.

The first thing to hit Aiden when he walked in was the noise. It sounded like everyone inside were doing their best to outyell each other. Mixed in with the roaring and the cheering were swears and cries for food or drink. Then he was hit by the smell. It was some unholy combination of copious amount of alcohol, vomit, and unwashed human. As if to confirm what his other sense were telling him, Aiden looked around. The bar, a relatively small establishment, was packed to the brim with a group of large, boisterous, and drunk fighters. They looked to be a varied group, composed of every kind of lowlife around. He saw thieves, pickpockets, fighters, brawlers, a few men who reminded him of barbarians, and surprisingly a few mages. In the center of the room was a giant of a man, standing a good few inches over anyone else in the room. He was coarsely dressed, barefoot, and bald except for a ponytail of dark, greasy hair. What caught Aiden's attention was his company: the little pickpocket, shaking the man's arm while pointing at the door. No, not at the door, at Aiden. The giant looked up and locked eyes with the newcomer. He grimaced, and started to walk over.

"You lost?" He said in a deep, gravelly voice.

"That kid stole my money." Aiden responded. The kid stuck his tongue out at Aiden, and the giant let out a low chuckle.

"It ain't yours anymore. Get lost, before I make you." He said with a note of finality before turning away.

"I'm not leaving until I get my money back." The giant swung around and the men between them backed away, quickly. Suddenly the room seemed very empty.

"I'll give you one last chance: get lost before I cave your skull in!" The brute yelled. Aiden didn't move. The giant spoke, his voice suddenly a menacing calm.

"I tried to warn you. I really did. Now you're going to leave without your money or your health." It was at this point that Aiden really started to take in the man's giant frame, his massive arms, and the large, metal rings he wore. He should have listened to Lindon. Now his stubborn streak was going to get him killed.

The man swung at him. It was a slow hit, but Aiden had no doubt that if it connected, he'd feel it. He jumped back, only to be jostled from behind. The thugs smelled a fight brewing, and had encircled the pair in a sea of bodies. There was no escape now. To make matters worse, the man was already too close for Aiden to even attempt to draw his weapons. It was going to be a brawl.

The man swung again, and Aiden dodged to the side. Any action he could have taken was interrupted by another swing. For all his size, he wasn't giving away any openings. Aiden dodged another blow, barely noticing a follow up from below. He barely had time to jump out of the way, a massive fist missing his chin by inches. The giant was slow to follow up from this massive swing, taking a few extra seconds to readjust. It was apparent he'd planned to end the fight there. He almost had.

Aiden took a few experimental swings of his own, testing the brute's defenses. The brute responded well, blocking and deflecting every blow. It was only Aiden's skill that prevented him from being grabbed. That wasn't going to work. The crowd had picked up on what was going on, and had started to cheer. They must have had a clear idea of who was going to win, because it wasn't Aiden's name he heard being repeated over and over. The big man seemed to take the praise in, cracking a huge smirk and launching into another series of attacks. If Aiden didn't do something soon, he was as good as dead. He couldn't keep dodging forever.

He pivoted around the makeshift ring, never taking his eyes off his opponent. Now, the brute's back was to the door, while he was against the bar. His next dodge set his back against the bar, seemingly with nowhere to go. The man sent a crushingly powerful blow directly at Aiden's face. At the last moment, Aiden dropped low, using everything he had, along with the brute's own overextension, to send him crashing into the bar overhead. Aiden leapt up, not letting his one advantage go to waste. The man was sprawled over the bar, obviously stunned by the sudden fall. He grabbed the man's head and smashed it into the bar, hard. Amazingly, the giant, dazed, turned around and tried to get back up. Aiden didn't relent, launching into a flurry of punches that sent the man reeling back. He swept the unsteady brawler's legs out from underneath him, sending him toppling to the floor. For good measure, Aiden landed a hard jab to the fallen giant's temple, knocking him out.

He stood up, and looked around. The bar had fallen silent. Many were staring in awe. A few were shaking their heads. One was collecting money from his disbelieving peers. Smart man, betting on a professional.

Suddenly, there was uproarious laughter from a corner table. Sitting there, his feet propped up on a table, was one of the more interesting barbarians Aiden had ever seen. The man was large, though not as tall as the man he'd just downed. He had an impressive scar down one side of his face, complete with an eye patch. What caught Aiden's attention, though, was his mane. His hair was thick, ragged, and bright red. It trailed down his face into a large braid that extended to chest length. Other than that, the only thing covering his chest was a series of leather straps and scars, typical of many veteran barbarians. His shoulders were covered by bone plates, one in the fashion of some mythical beast's oversized skull. On his back was an oversized tomahawk, notched from many uses. This man was clearly dangerous, and judging by the respect the normally irreverent thugs showed him, everyone knew it. He finished his chuckling, and looked at Aiden.

"That was a good fight! Boy, give him his coin purse. The lad's earned it!" He then indicated to the young thief that had gotten Aiden into this mess.

The little pickpocket grudgingly dug out the coin purse, and tossed it over to Aiden. He snatched it out of the air, and then sat down at the table, where the barbarian was indicating.

"I don't know who you are, but you just showed one of my best men his own eyelids. I could use talent like that. You looking for work?" Aiden's eyes narrowed. He was getting an odd feeling about this.

"That depends on who it is asking. What do you do?" The barbarian cracked a sleazy grin, and looked over to one of the thugs.

"This here is my merry band of soldiers. We're sellswords, of a sort. Right now, we have a nice job retrieving important cargo. You want in?" Something about the way the man said "cargo" gave Aiden a bad feeling. He did not want to get mixed up with this group. Even he wasn't going to stoop that low.

"No thanks, I'm not looking for work. It was a pleasure meeting, you, though," he said through gritted teeth, before walking off. He'd have to find work somewhere else. The barbarian, unperturbed, shouted after him

"Keep us in mind, will you? The name's Bron! Remember it!"

As the door slammed shut, one of the thugs looked over to their leader.

"Boss, you think it's a good idea, letting him go like that?" Once again, Bron cracked a lecherous smirk.

"Did you see the paltry sum of coin he was chasing so hard? That man needs work, and he's going to want somewhere where he can put that skill to use. He'll be back."

Aiden emerged from the dark of the alley into the sunlight of the crowded but much less threatening street. That could have gone worse, he supposed, though he didn't like the looks some of those thugs were giving him. Even after taking down that goliath, some of them seemed ready to kill. He'd have to watch his back from now on-

Damn! Aiden ducked into a recessed doorway, barely peeking around the corner. A very familiar figure dressed in plate was standing just down the street. The man was leaning into a market stall, head obscured, but Aiden could tell who it was. Even if the spell tome dangling on a chain at the warrior's side hadn't given him away, the gloves did. They were custom made, thick leather with metal studs all around the forearm, with much lighter protection around the hands. Their wearer had once told Aiden that he used them in place of a normal shield normally when he needed to. He'd said that it was a lot harder to wield a spell tome with a big metal plate on his arm, so he'd substituted. Plus, they proved useful in unarmed combat, to hear him say it. Not that Martin had ever strayed from his sword and spells long enough to try.

If Martin was here, that meant the others might be close behind. The city was no longer safe for Aiden, that much was clear. He needed to shorten his plans and leave as soon as possible. He watched as Martin eventually left, then walked as quickly as he could in the opposite direction. When Martin looked back, there was no one to be seen.

"I have returned, and I come bearing gifts!" Martin shouted as he entered the clearing where the four had set up camp. Lyta looked up, surprised. Martin had been gone an unusually long time, and the others had started to worry. Shione, as usual, was the first with a comment.

"What took you so long? Lyta and I had already finished with our jobs an hour ago." Lyta nodded. She'd been very glad to find out that she was the first back in camp.

"I managed to find a week's worth of food and drink, as well as a few things to help improve the campsite. Shione here has already drawn up a list of leads that might point to Aiden. Did you have trouble finding things?" She couldn't resist rubbing it in, just a little. It served him right for riding so well.

"No, I didn't. In fact, I managed to convince a merchant on a really good price for a few vulneraries. Only 500 gold for a whole lot of them. Since we don't have a healer, I figured it was a good investment," martin responded, slightly indignant. Cainne then spoke up.

"Did you figure out any way to get me into the city? I'd hate to be stuck out here while everyone else was inside the city." Once again, Martin studiously avoided eye contact.

"Unfortunately, no. Everyone's on high alert right now with all the Risen. I can't think of any feasible way to get into the city, especially with your aversion to headwear. What took me so long was an Anna I found with some interesting wares, which gave me a few ideas, but I don't expect them to work. We can consider the details later." Cainne groaned. Lyta almost responded in kind. Martin couldn't stay focused if he wasn't in battle, to the misfortune of everyone around him. Luckily, Cainne was patient.

"That's unfortunate, but I suppose it is necessary. Shione, please tell me you have had more success."

Shione took out a map and started to mark down the various gossip he'd heard in the city and in the surrounding countryside. None of the party had any way of knowing that their mark was currently headed down the main road just yards from their campsite, having stowed away in a traveler's cart. As they plotted out their search plans, he was already gone.

_Chapter 3 finished! Interestingly enough, it is approximately the same length as the other two chapters combined, which I am proud about. Honestly, I'm starting to get excited every time I have something new to share. From the first of next month (hopefully), I'll try to release chapters every 15 days. It'd be better, though, if anyone who cares would expect that I'll miss the deadline, so you won't be disappointed when I do. _

_This chapter marks the end of the story's exposition, and the transition into the main events of Fire Emblem: Awakening. Yes, that means next chapter will be much more grounded in actual events. Hooray!_

_As usual, there's more info to be found in the author bio, and please leave reviews! It seems like many people aren't getting past the first chapter, and while I understand that not everyone likes every story, I would like to know if there's anything that I should fix._


	4. Chapter 4: Deceit

It had been a busy month for Robin. Over the course of a single diplomatic mission, the Shepherds had somehow found their way into far too many fights. It had started with the Feroxi border guard, who, convinced they had been bandits, attacked them. At least Sumia found her one true calling with a Pegasus. Robin sincerely hoped she wouldn't trip while flying. That was one explanation that he did not want to give to Chrom.

After the skirmish at the border, they made it to Ragna Ferox with little trouble, until he'd made an utter fool of himself in front of the Khan. It seemed a reasonable assumption to make when the vast majority of warriors he met were men, but apparently fate was not kind enough to let his erroneous statement go by without an audience.

Perhaps that slight was why he'd been part of the team fighting for the Kahn in the arena. Luckily, the fight to follow had distracted everyone from his blunder, especially when Marth had shown his face. Well, not exactly, but the masked swordsman had once again made an appearance, this time wielding Falchion. Somehow. Robin was unsure as to how the supposedly one-of-a-kind sword had made an appearance with two different fighters in the same battle, but it wasn't entirely unconventional. Many older stories and historical accounts somehow had Falchion jumping continents in the span of mere days, to be wielded by different heroes of legend. It was entirely possible that there was more than one sword made from Naga's fangs, and that none had been seen together before now. That didn't explain Marth's skill with the weapon, or his fighting style, which seemed to match Chrom's every move. Unfortunately, Robin had nowhere to turn to for answers, and so he had to let the situation drop. He suspected that the answers would come, eventually. He was sure Marth would return.

Nevertheless, they had defeated Marth and secured Ragna Ferox's assistance. Robin's troubles were far from over, however. While returning to Ylisse, they had come across a group of bandits that Chrom had set to eliminating, eventually chasing the twin leaders to the mountain fort. The prince had returned to much fanfare, but had only given the Shepherds a few days of rest. With the increase in bandit activity along the border, Chrom had set out to protect the people. A farm boy had brought their attention to his village, currently suffering under the hand of a raider. This was where Robin currently found himself, listening in to an incredibly odd conversation. Apparently, this was his life now.

"Listen, kid. If you want to be a hero, I've got just the things you need. I've got high quality weapons and armor, even something to replace that dinged-up pot on your head!"

"Ah never said that I wanted to be a hero! And I'm keepin' mah helmet!"

"Anna, stop trying to sell the kid stuff. Donnel, don't worry about it. We'll find your mother soon. We just need to wait for nightfall," Robin said. He put his hand on the young man's shoulder and walked him away from the money-crazed merchant, before kneeling down. "This isn't a nice experience for anyone to have to go through. I'm sorry. I know you're probably terrified, and that's ok. We all get nervous when it comes to a battle. I'm going to give you this spear, in case you need to defend yourself. Feel free to stay back. We can handle the situation."

"Awright, I can do that. Ah reckon that you n' Chrom will send those no-good bandits packing!"

Robin walked off, thinking. He was honestly worried for the kid, a farm boy named Donnel. His family had been imprisoned by a bunch of thugs, and though he was trying to act brave, Robin could tell that Donnel was nervous. At the same time, he saw some potential in the kid. Something about the way he carried himself suggested that he could do great things, despite his humble talents. Perhaps…

"Kellam, are you around?"

"I've been following you for the past ten minutes, waiting for orders." Gods above, it didn't make sense that such a large man could be so silent. The armor should have given him away, at the very least.

"I'm sorry, really. In any case, I need you to do me a favor. Stick with Donnel and make sure he isn't hurt," Robin glanced over at the newest Shepherd quartermaster before adding "by anyone. Ok?"

Kellam nodded before walking off. Robin followed him with his eyes. He was going to make sure that he could find that man whe- wait, where'd he go? Kellam, another great mystery of the Shepherds.

Robin started walking towards the command tent. He needed to plan tonight's strategy, especially how to get the prisoners free without the bandits harming them. As he walked, he could hear the sounds of a conversation. It sounded like Chrom and Sumia. After her daring antics at the Feroxi Border, she and Chrom had really hit it off. Robin got the sense that they had been companions in the Shepherds before, but now it seemed like they were friends. Interestingly enough, this wasn't an isolated phenomenon. Many of the shepherds seemed to be getting increasingly friendlier with each other. Robin wasn't exempt, either. He'd taken to planning tactics with Virion in his off time, and he'd started to gain Frederick's trust. Chrom was his closest friend in the group, owing to their time together, and even Vaike, despite his terrible antics, had started to rub off on the tactician. Something about their mutual hatred of Sully's horse had brought them closer together. Of course, that demon steed wouldn't be after Robin if it wasn't for Vaike, but that wasn't really Robin's concern, anymore. He just hoped he could get Vaike to stop before his habit got him trampled, or worse.

Moments before he walked into the command tent, he heard an odd screech. It sounded like a certain farm boy scared out of his wits. The only reaction to follow was a scattering of laughs behind him, so Robin could only assume Kellam had gotten the jump on Donnel. Well, it was a good way to break the ice, he supposed, even if poor Kellam didn't ever mean it.

Yes, his month had been hectic, and was probably going to be more so, if the escalating tensions in Ylisse were anything to go by. With this group of people around him, though, Robin was happy. There might be trouble ahead, but Robin wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Aiden was hungry. For the second night in a row, he hadn't eaten. That was something the stories never mentioned, that the heroes and villains never dealt with: if you weren't rich, you'd be hungry. He'd thrust himself into an alternate timeline with very little, and he was suffering the results. Travelling from village to village and defending them from the Risen had been satisfying, but it wasn't viable. No villager had coin to pay for his efforts, though they at least shared a hot meal and a place to sleep on occasion. He traveled on foot, often wandering at least a day or more before reaching the next settlement. Occasionally, he would come across signs of the war to come. Bandits, Risen, even ransacked homes and towns. What had been a grand adventure when he arrived had quickly descended into a nightmare.

Before this began, there had been no thought about finding food or water or a place to sleep. There had been dreams of glory, plans on counteracting the more pressing consequences of his actions, but he hadn't considered the long term. They had always said he was rash and impulsive. Maybe they were right. Maybe he should just find the others and give himself up. They could all make the journey to Mount Prism and return to their own realm.

No. He couldn't return. That would mean giving up everything he had done. He couldn't do that. He'd have to abandon all of the work that had led up to this, and everything he had planned for the future. It would mean facing judgment on his actions, and he had all too good an idea of how that would end. More importantly, it would mean giving up his ultimate goals, leaving behind everything and everyone that was counting on him. That was not going to happen. Too much was resting on his own success for him to give up now. He'd just have to find a way to survive. From there, he could work his way up. He'd said as much before, but this time, he knew what he had to do.

Which was why Aiden found himself walking through a dimly lit doorway in the shadow of an alleyway at night. He had returned to Ylisstol after all. He had entered the city in the late afternoon, and hidden out until evening. If his pursuers were still in the city, he did not want to give them any help in finding himself.

The raucous noise hadn't lessened in the month that he had been gone. The stench hadn't improved; in fact, it seemed even worse than before. How long was this group of thugs planning on staying around? For a brief moment, Aiden considered those who owned the establishment. Perhaps they were still here, somewhere. Maybe they had been driven out by the barbarians at their doorstep. Perhaps this entire enterprise was a front, serving as a staging ground for Bron's thugs. Perhaps it was best not to know.

"So the brawler returns! What brings a fighter such as yourself to grace us mere peasants with your presence?" Well, he found Bron, at least. The man was walking directly towards him, arms outstretched as if to welcome him in. As usual, he had that creepy grin on his face.

"Hello, Bron. Is that job offer still open?" Aiden made sure to keep his tone level, even respectful.

"I dunno, it's been a very long time." There was a pregnant pause. "Because I like you, though, I'll let you know that it is. Are you interested?" Bron grinned. Aiden noticed when he nodded, almost imperceptibly, to a nearby lackey. They quickly returned his grin.

"That depends on what the job is. I'd like to know what I'm signing up for," Aiden responded.

"But of course! You needn't worry about a thing. Everything we are doing is endorsed by the government, if that's what you're worrying about. We've simply been hired to wait here and retrieve an incredibly important package when the time comes. It's nothing too complex, don't worry, but our employers are paying handsomely. I won't ask again, so consider wisely. Are you interested?"

Aiden's instincts were telling him that this was bad, that he had to get out of here, but he suppressed them. He needed this. Though he didn't trust Bron, the man had said this was government sanctioned, too specific a requirement to be a lie, unless Bron was incredibly bold. Oh well. No one had ever said he had to like his employer.

"I'm in. Let me know when I'm needed." Bron grinned wider than usual, if that was even possible.

"Good, because we leave soon."

* * *

Bron had been true to his word. Within an hour, the entire band had packed up and vacated he premises. Aiden was with them. With discretion Aiden hadn't thought possible of a bunch of thugs, they had left the city, following a series of roads heading southwest. The precision with which they followed their path suggested that this had been planned a long time in advance. They made good time for a small horde, and by the next night had found themselves looking upon their destination.

Apparently, Aiden had signed up for guard duty. He found himself watching over a small herd of horses, mounts for Bron and a few higher-ranking members of his crew. He, along with another man, had been told to stand guard over the animals to ensure that Bron could "quickly and easily" transport the delivery when it arrived. The other man, an incredibly shifty archer who'd refused to give his name, had decided to take up position close to the herd leaving Aiden to patrol. This worked for Aiden, as it allowed him some time to try and piece things together.

The town Aiden was able to look over upon was relatively small, with only a few houses scattered between green fields. Dominating thee view was a much larger manor, ornate in decoration and proudly displaying the Ylissean seal along with a family crest. Aiden recognized the location as Themis, a dukedom with a small town on the border between Ylisse and Plegia. In the darkness a few candles had been set in windows, marking occupied structures with a dim light. The manor was much more grandly lit, but still things seemed incredibly still. The moon was in full view, shining down upon the fields nearby. Bron and his men had somehow managed to disappear, however. Aiden knew that the ruling family here were very influential in Ylissean politics, despite Themis's small size. Beyond that information, however, there wasn't much of any interest here. Why would a bunch of brigands be picking up a package here, of all places?

Some ideas had been forming in Aiden's head to explain this. The group he was working with had suddenly assumed a very high level of coordination once their mission had arrived, despite their earlier raucousness. Of course, they could have just been very professional sellswords. It wasn't that odd. Their choice of location, however, was. Why would a group with goals in Themis have a base of operations in Ylisstol? And again, why would their main goal be something in a small town like this?

Perhaps they were more than they seemed. Aiden was starting to wonder if the whole appearance of bandits was a disguise to throw off onlookers, and that these men were something else. Bandits or spies for Plegia wouldn't have stopped here; the town was too small to provide an effective safe haven, especially with their home country just across the border. No, the company's business was definitely directed here. Perhaps they were working for the Exalt. That would explain the base in the capital and the mission to its most influential dukedom. Bron had said that they were sanctioned by the Ylissean government, after all. Aiden still didn't feel safe, though. Nothing was adding up.

"Hey, Hood, ya see anything?" That was the archer, calling out to him. His habit of keeping his cowl up, something not uncommon in this group, had nevertheless earned him the nickname of Hood from the archer. No one used their real names here, it seemed. Even Aiden's employer probably hadn't, now that he thought of it.

"No, it's pretty quiet. You mind telling me what we're doing here?" Aiden responded, keeping his voice low.

"Simple, we're picking up a delivery," was all the archer said. At least it wasn't a flat out refusal.

"Care to shed any more information?" Aiden hoped he wasn't taking too much of a risk with this question.

"It's a very important package, one that our employer wants to make sure gets to them safely," the archer said. Aiden shifted a little, repositioning his cloak. He was all too aware of his own bundle, and its importance to a select few people. "If I were you, I'd stop asking questions. Knowing too much about this sort of thing can be dangerous." With this, the archer studiously looked over an arrowhead, testing the edge. Aiden got the message.

The silence was soon interrupted by the sound of booted feet. It looked like Bron and his group were making a return. Bron made his way over to the pair, but Aiden was able to catch a quick glimpse of a large sack slung over one fighter's back.

"You two, anything to report?" Bron said, his voice low but commanding. His usual uncaring attitude had been replaced by a sense of grim professionalism. The archer responded.

"We didn't see anything. It's been a quiet night. Any trouble with the pickup?" At this, Bron grinned.

"Exactly as planned. Go help the others secure it." The archer scurried off, and Aiden made to follow. He was stopped by a large hand.

"Not you," Bron said. "Our employer values their secrecy. Which means that new guys like yourself stay away from the delivery. I got another job for you."

Aiden nodded, but was cut off by a commotion near the horses. He looked over and saw his archer aquaintance reeling back, face covered in blood. Before he'd considered it, Aiden was at his side. The man's nose had been broken, and the cloth sack was lying open nearby. Whatever was inside must have fallen and hit the man. Aiden looked over-

And froze. Lying on the ground, tied up and gagged, was a small blonde woman with a look of pure hatred in her eyes. She seemed well off from her outfit, a white frilly thing popular among younger court women. Lying next to her was a small parasol.

This wasn't happening. He had not just been accomplice to a kidnapping. All the evidence was before him though, he-

"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" Aiden's heart skipped a beat. It was Bron. "I'd told you not to go snooping around where you weren't wanted. You just had to go and ruin my day. I was giving you a chance, you know. Depending on how you did on your next job, you could have joined up. Otherwise, you'd be our scapegoat, but the choice was up to you. Now, you aren't leaving me any."

"Kidnapping?" Aiden spoke, his voice barely restrained in spite of himself. "I thought you said that this was government sanctioned!" Bron just chuckled.

"I did, and it's true, too. I just didn't say which government was doing the sanctioning."

A horrible thought was forming in Aiden's mind. The figure below him looked like royalty. Even in the dim light, he could make out enough that he thought it was the duke's daughter. Bron had just confirmed an outside influence. And Aiden knew, even if no one else did, that a war was coming, soon.

He feared he had just helped start it.

He'd also managed to piss off the perpetrators.

Within a second, Aiden's blades were in his hand. For a moment, nothing happened. Suddenly, there was a deep thunk that he felt more than heard, and blinding pain roared through Aiden's mind. He couldn't focus…things were turning black. That damned weasel with a bloody nose walked past, holding a club. Aiden's blade was there, right there, he just needed to…

* * *

"You just can't trust the help these days, I suppose," Bron smirked. "Someone give me some good news." A nearby thug snapped to attention

"The guards are out cold, but not dead, like you said. We've restrained the girl more securely this time. From the look of things, we can get out of here with no trouble."

"Good. Gangrel's paying us to leave them alive. Someone has to let the Ylisseans know who it was that attacked," Bron ordered. "Don't worry, we'll have some fun with the other villages along the path, make sure the Ylisseans get the message." He looked over to the prone swordsman before him. "What are wo going to do with you?"

"Sir, lookit this!" A thief had decided to check the traitor's pockets, but had evidently found something more interesting. He was grasping a large, oblong package that had been tied to the man's back, hidden behind his cloak. Bron took the bundle and loosened the fabric. His eyes widened momentarily, and he let out a low whistle.

"What do we have here?"

* * *

The Shepherds had all made it back to Ylisstol in one piece. Robin considered that an accomplishment. Somehow, he'd started to turn a ragtag group of people with skill levels ranging from "royal knight" to "farm boy" into an effective fighting force. Given time, he figured that they could do great things.

For now, he had to figure out where to go next. The world seemed to be falling apart to Risen and bandits, and the rumors from overseas were not promising. There was no shortage of work to be done. The only problem was that there was too much, all happening at once. Robin feared that attending to a problem in one place would cause troubles somewhere else. Yet inaction due to indecision would be even worse. It seemed that the Shepherds, and by extension the tactician, never rested. At least he had good news.

"Then Regna Ferox will support Ylisse? Thank you, Chrom. I knew sending you was the right choice." The Exalt was correct. If it had been any normal diplomat, they'd have been stonewalled by Ragna Ferox's warrior culture. This was assuming they could talk their way past the murderous gate defenses. Fortunately for everyone, the Exalt apparently understood more of Feroxi culture than she let on.

The agreement had been made almost two weeks ago, now, but duty had pushed them away. Chrom had left a message to the Exalt explaining their success before heading off to save the kingdom, but Emmeryin had wanted to hear from her brother in person.

"You should see Ferox's warriors!" Chrom beamed. He was incredibly excited about the success of the mission, at least in part because of his own role in it. He'd also been happier in general, according to Vaike. The admittedly unreliable source had seen something brewing between him and Sumia that might be the cause. Robin refocused. The potential relationships of his superior officers were not his concerns. "Perhaps now our people will be safe from-"

"Your Grace! M-milord! Forgive me, but I bring alarming news!" Phila? She was shaken, an impressive feat considering the captain of the Pegasus Knights' mental fortitude. This couldn't be good.

"Phila, slow down, please! What's happened?" Emmeryn was trying to keep calm, but even she seemed shaken by Phila's sudden outburst.

"Plegian soldiers have been sighted inside our southwest border!" Damn, that wasn't good. There'd been suspicions about the bandits, but this was the first time he'd heard of the Plegians explicitly attacking. "They attacked a village in Themis and abducted the duke's daughter!" Robin was able to see the color drain from Lissa's face at this revelation. When she spoke, her voice trembled with fear.

"B-but that would be…Maribelle! Chrom, we have to do something!" Maribelle, the icy noble he'd met a month ago? How had she gotten involved in all of this? It was bad enough for Plegians to kidnap someone from Ylissean borders, but this made it personal. Somewhat. He didn't really know her, but he knew Lissa liked her.

"There's more," Phila continued, regaining some composure. "King Gangrel of Plegia claims Lady Maribelle invaded his country. He demands we pay reparations for this 'insult'." The disdain with which she spat the word was almost palpable.

The next few minutes were spent discussion options, notable for Chrom and Phila suggesting the brilliant tactic of putting a sword in the mad king's gut while the Exalt suggested diplomacy. Unfortunately, this "Mad King" didn't seem like the best diplomat. Robin stayed silent. Both ideas seemed poor, but indecision again seemed even worse.

Eventually, it was decided that Emmeryn would attempt diplomacy, while Chrom and the Shepherds would serve as guards. Robin set off to prepare. He hoped diplomacy would work, but was under no illusions. If things fell through, there could be war.

No, a Shepherd's work was never done.

* * *

"You ever think about stealing this stuff?"

"It'd be more trouble than it's worth. Are you telling me you honestly would give up your morals for some more coin?"

"Just idle chatter. I'm not honestly considering it. This job's tedious, but not _that_ tedious."

"Good to hear hard labor hasn't corrupted a paragon of virtue. I guess this is a new experience for you, huh? Working like this."

They'd been chatting like this every day they'd been here. It made the work go faster, and the occasional battle of wits helped keep them sharp. The conversation never breached their real issues. Those were too pressing, too prominent to joke about.

For Martin, crate stacking had been a great idea. For the rest of the group, it had seemed insane. With the sort of inane prattle that usually came out of his mouth, he had fully expected the odd looks. However, this time he was serious.

In any market city like Ylisstol, there were traveling merchants. These merchants brought their wares with them, usually carrying large shipments by some sort of cart. The carts weren't allowed in city limits, but these goods needed to go somewhere; there were customers waiting to make purchases. While some of the more successful salespeople had workers to help with their tasks, many small-time merchants spent good portions of their day offloading their own wares and setting up their own stalls in preparation for the next market day. Long ago, these merchants would have been stalked by thieves, ready to steal whatever was left unattended. One day, though, some enterprising rogue had realized that there was easy cash to be made from providing help to the salespeople. Soon, a sort of barter system had sprung up: the crate-stackers would help move shipments from the carts to the market for money, and if they got cheated by a miserly merchant, well, the more unscrupulous were prepared to take off running with whatever they could find. Those traders who couldn't afford full-time employees jumped at this opportunity to free themselves of a few hours' worth of hard individual labor, and soon the business at the merchant's gates had taken off.

It was an incredibly easy business to get into: all one had to do was wait for a harried merchant and give them a hand. As a result, Martin and Shione now found themselves waiting by the Northern gates, waiting for another shipment to come by. They'd been doing this for approximately two weeks and had made a small business out of it. The coin they earned went straight to their search for Aiden, whether it was buying supplies, food, or the occasional bribe. Cainne used her time out in the wild to supplement their meals. They'd hoped that she'd be able to find Aiden if he left the city, but after a few false starts, the trail had gone cold. Lyta had taken on the monumental task of searching the city, which left Martin and Shione to earn coin. He'd practically had to drag the haughty cavalier here.

That wasn't the only reason he'd chosen this job, though. It was near a prominent entrance to the city, so Martin would be able to watch anyone who entered or left by this path. While there had been no sign of their quarry, he had witnessed the Shepherds returning from Ragna Ferox.

Of greater interest was the chatter. Merchants often had stories to tell or experiences to share from their travels on the road, and they would speak freely if bored or interested enough. These travelers could be found anywhere, so Martin was constantly on the lookout for any information that could be linked to Aiden. There had been a few mentions of a traveler matching his description wandering the countryside and fighting against the occasional Risen party, but they were long gone even before the merchants themselves had heard about the figure.

So Martin and Shione waited. They did a lot of waiting these days, as travelers to the city became less and less frequent. Even without any knowledge of future events, many could read the situation for what it was: trouble was coming to Ylisse. If Aiden wasn't found soon, Martin and the others would find themselves in the middle of it. No soldier stayed idle for long once war arrived.

"Hey, check out that guy over there," Shione said, jostling Martin out of his thoughts. "He seems up to something, and he's trying to hide it badly." Indeed, the figure in question was sulking in a corner, studiously avoiding the gaze of everyone nearby. Their hand was constantly going in and out of their pocket, as if to make sure that something was there. Martin cast a glance over at Shione.

"You think it's a thief?" Not everyone was content to accept a merchant's payment. Some were willing to face the risks of a theft in order to make a quick payment. They were different than the kinds of people who'd steal if they felt cheated, because those people thought they were justified. These thieves were acting out of pure self-interest, and cast a bad name on everyone else. The crate handlers, interested in protecting their livelihood, often had to drive these lowlifes off.

"No, he looks more like he's waiting for something," Shione responded. "If he wanted to steal something, it isn't here yet. He's been waiting for too long."

"Too bad Lyta isn't here. She'd probably be able to pick out this guy's intentions from a mile away." Martin regretted sending her away. Lyta had training in many, many unsavory skills that were useful in a surprising number of situations. As a result, she had a keen eye for others in her trade.

"We might not need her. Shady over here is moving." True to Shione's word, the man was on the move. It was a laughable attempt at stealthy movement, but it was enough that anyone looking probably wouldn't care to notice the man.

Martin stayed back, and watched. He made a slight motion over to the other end of the road, and thankfully Shione understood. He started to make his way over to where Martin had motioned, slowly circling around the shady figure. If they tried to run, they'd find the main road blocked on both sides.

There was movement out of the corner of Martin's eye. Suddenly, a small figure sprinted out of a side street, running into the suspicious man. The smaller figure was quickly gone from the way he came, the suspicious figure was on the ground. Shione reacted first, moving towards the downed man. That meant Martin had the runner. Great.

He took off down the side street. This hadn't been part of their plan, improvised as it was. Then again, not many plans ever survived in their original form, a fact Martin knew well. You had to be able to adapt to changes on the fly. If you couldn't you'd be crushed by a more adaptable opponent. With any luck, his new prey was not one of those opponents.

The target was focusing solely on getting away, not caring what he left in his wake. As a result, Martin was able to track him by the people that had been knocked aside and crates that had been toppled. This guy was fast, and he knew things well. If he had been more careful, Martin would have lost him. As it was, he could barely keep track of the runner's figure, bobbing and weaving through the crowd. Martin kept looking for some advantage, a way to get ahead or stop the runner, but there wasn't anything to be seen. All he could do was to keep as close behind the figure as possible, ready for such a moment to arrive.

Suddenly, an arm reached out of the crowd and grabbed him by the shoulder. Its owner stopped him cold before turning him around and letting go. Martin almost had his sword out when he recognized the hooded figure.

"Lyta?"

"Hey Martin. Where's the fire?"

"I have to go. That kid's acting way too suspicious." He turned to leave, only to have Lyta hold him back.

"Easy. The kid's a pickpocket, one of the more infamous in the area." Lyta explained, before holding something out. "I'm better. He had this in his pocket. I snagged it as he passed." She had some sort of paper in her hand. Martin grabbed it.

"Lyta, what would we do without you?" His question went unanswered, as Shione quickly approached the pair. He looked worried.

"That was a setup! The man passed off something to the kid and took a fall to make it look like a theft. He tried to get away as soon as I got near." Shione was apprehensive, but calmed down once he realized that Lyta was there. "Oh. I assume you got it?" Martin held up the paper, but noticed something.

"Where's the man?"

"He got away. Threw dirt in my eyes as soon as he got a chance. At least I got out what I did. Heard him say something about others at the tavern, and how they'd kill him for this. He got away before I could ask more." Lyta perked up.

"I've been around, and I heard about a local bar in a bad part of town. Locals are saying it's been overrun with criminals. I can lead us there. Whatever's going on here, I say we stop by and take a look." Martin looked over, troubled.

"We're going to have to postpone that trip, people. We have a bigger problem." The look on his face was grim, the note open in his hands. "Listen to this: _Shipment received, payment to be delivered in the steppes west of the city. Tell V. to prepare his operation. If he wants to act, now is the time._ That's troubling, but then there's this: "_Ran into trouble with that swordsmaster recruit. We were going to take proper action, but there's something off with this guy. I'd rather not write it here. Let V. know there might be a flaw in his plans. Once he is done with them, get our guys up here as soon as possible. We might have a fortune on our hands. _It's not addressed to anyone, perhaps that courier is supposed to recite it. Signed with a B."

"Do we tell Cainne?" Shione said. "I mean, a reckless swordsmaster with "something off"? This sounds like Aiden. If he's there, we should let her know."

"I agree," Martin said, "But we don't know where she is right now, or when she'll be back. I shouldn't have sent her off, but it's too late now. Someone will have to stay behind to alert her. Plus, I want eyes on this plot and this "V" guy. We don't know enough." Lyta raised her hand.

"I'll do it. I can navigate these streets the best out of all of us, and with the least chance of being seen. I'll let Cainne know, and we'll figure out what to do from there." Martin nodded.

"I know the area west of the city pretty well, and I know how to get to the steppes," Shione spoke. "It's only a day's ride. How about we head off and see what we can find out about "B". If Aiden's there, this is the break we need."

"Agreed. We all know what we're doing, so let's head out. Lyta, good luck. Shione, let's get to the camp. We ride out of here as soon as possible."

* * *

Dark. It was dark. He couldn't see…no, wait, there was some light. His head hurt. Again.

Aiden really had to stop waking up like this.

Taken unawares by simple bandits. Had he really fallen this low? That shouldn't have happened, he was better than that. There had always been someone watching his back before, though. She'd always made sure that he was covered. Now she was gone, and he had to rely on himself.

That meant getting out of here, though. He was in a tent, he figured. There was no light inside, but he could see from the sunlight seeping through and under the cloth. It was intense, so it might be mid-day outside. He tried to get up, to no avail. He was tied to something on the tent's back wall. A quick look revealed post jutting out of the ground, supporting the tent. His bindings were wrapped around the post, and they'd either have to go under or over the post, neither of which was viable. Brilliant. He'd have to escape somehow, but that could wait. He wasn't going anywhere.

Currently, he was more worried about something else. His gear was gone, including his swords, cloak, armor, and most worryingly, the satchel that had been tied to his back. If those were in these bandit's hands, his situation was about to get infinitely more difficult.

The bare ground yielded no answers, and so Aiden set to work. He strained against the bonds to no avail. The rope was tough, and no amount of brute force that Aiden could summon would break it or the post. Perhaps he could use the wood post to slowly saw away at the binding, but it had been smoothed down by repeated use. Any progress would be painfully slow. Before he could start, something moved.

"…I'll go check", said a voice from outside, muffled by the fabric walls. Aiden quickly decided to act unconscious. He closed his eyes and lolled his head. Hopefully it was dark enough that they wouldn't notice.

There was a rustling sound, and heavy footsteps. Aiden felt a wave of heat as the tent flap presumably opened. They had to be somewhere warm.

"Still out?" said a quiet voice. It was Bron, somehow keeping his booming voice down. "I suppose that's for the best. Wouldn't want you hurting yourself or anyone else trying to escape. I was just going to kill you, you know. Anyone else would already be dead. Lucky for you, I checked twice, and found something interesting. You're going to be my ticket out of here. A bargaining chip, should the Mad King decide he doesn't want us anymore. I don't know your story, kid, but I know a prize when I see one. And somehow, you're it. Don't wake up. It'll be better for everyone if you just stay here and stay quiet."

A chill ran down Aiden's back. Did Bron know he was conscious? The tent flap rustled again, and Bron was gone. Aiden opened his eyes. Nothing. It was going to be a long wait.

* * *

Robin stood by the Cliffside, staring at the strangest figure he had ever met. No one who was so emaciated and frail should be so menacing, but this man exuded a sense of dread, visible even in the faces of his followers. Perhaps it was the clothing: the outfit was suited for royalty, but had been twisted and blackened, almost as if in response to the owner's emotions. An intricate crown gleamed dully on his forehead, completing the ensemble. Perhaps, though, the dread stemmed from the man's expression. It was one of twisted joy, an expression shared by children who liked too much to break things and soldiers that liked too much to break men.

Standing before him was the Mad Dog himself, King Gangrel. He was not alone, for standing by his side was a strange, ashen-skinned woman astride a black Pegasus. At the ready was a small army, easily rivaling the size of the Shepherds that had accompanied the Exalt here. Some looked like the very bandits and ruffians that had been raiding Ylisse for the past month, but others looked much more professional, dressed in well-maintained equipment that bore the multi-eyed symbol of Plegia. Robin recognized it despite having no memory of ever seeing Plegians before: it was etched onto his own hand for reasons unknown.

Gangrel did not look at him, however. His attention was focused on the figure nearby, the lady Emmeryn. The Exalt stood, seemingly unafraid of the twisted man before her. Directly to her sides stood her siblings, ready to intervene at a moment's notice. Robin and the others stood to the side, waiting. Finally, someone spoke.

"What's this, then? The Exalt herself, in all her radiance? I fear I must shield my eyes!" There were no words to accurately describe the king's voice other than infuriating. The sound he made afterwards was even more obnoxious, and Robin could barely recognize it as laughter. Emmeryn didn't flinch. She had to have prepared for this meeting, Robin thought.

"King Gangrel, I've come for the truth of this unfortunate incident between us," she declared, playing the statesman even in the face of this madman.

"The truth, I can give you the truth." Surprisingly, the speaker was the ashen-faced woman. Gangrel let her proceed, which meant that she had to have some authority.

"Perhaps milady might share her name?" Robin wouldn't have called her a lady, at least judging by her outfit, but that was why he wasn't the diplomat.

"You may call me Aversa." Something about that name was distantly familiar, like the mark on Robin's hand, but the thought was gone before he could grasp it. What was going on here? Who was this woman? What did Gangrel want? There were far too many uncertainties for Robin's taste. The more issues, the harder it was to choose an appropriate strategy. Judging by the look on Gangrel's face, he would need one.

* * *

"You see anything?"

"Looks like a campsite. No sentries. Lazy." Shione responded. Martin shifted to get a better view. The two of them were lying flat on the bare earth looking down over a cliff's edge, hiding with the help of a few scrubby bushes. Sure enough, there seemed to be an entrenched campsite down below. Some of the tent structures were in worse condition than the others, and seemed to be in worse condition. More pristine tents were clustered on the outskirts, new arrivals by the look of things. Martin could make out the Plegian seal on some.

"Maybe not lazy. They might be all gone, or maybe they already know where their enemy is." With that, Martin pointed into the distance, where two groups of soldiers, identifiable by the glint of sunlight off of armor and weapons, were barely visible.

"You think that's them? The Ylisseans, I mean," Shione asked. Martin nodded.

"We were trailing them most of the way here. There's no doubt in my mind."

"Whatever's going on over there, it doesn't look like a friendly gathering. I don't suppose we're allowed to intervene?" Shione asked. Martin shook his head.

A few minutes passed uneventfully. The camp seemed deserted, and the only movement Martin saw was the flapping of canvas in a slow breeze.

"Damn, it's hot," Shione said in a low whisper. Martin sympathized. Plate armor, even in small amounts, did not make for the best gear in high temperatures. Even this close to Ylisse, the steppes had already given way to the Plegian desert. Luckily, there wasn't too much sand here. Instead the ground was rocky, with a few scrub plants providing meager shade.

Suddenly, Shione laid a hand on his back, pushing him into the dirt. Martin looked over questioningly, but Shione was similarly hunched over. After a few seconds, he dared a look over the edge.

"Sorry, a patrol of thugs passed us by down below. Just got into the camp. There were about five or six, I'd say. Why the sudden increase in security?" He mused to himself. Then he stopped, and motioned.

Martin peeked over the edge, and immediately saw what Shione was pointing to. A large man dressed in a barbarian's armor and carrying a giant throwing axe was walking past. Martin could make out a bright red beard and blue tunic, but the rest was obscured behind the petite figure of a young woman dressed in a noble's finery. The man seemed to be carrying her over to the massing troops.

"That's the 'shipment'?" Shione asked. "Damn, kidnappers. If Aiden's down there, he's in serious trouble. Martin, promise me that if things go south, we get to kill these guys." Shione had a look of disgust on his face. He absolutely despised slavers and kidnappers such as these. Martin shared the sentiment, but he couldn't act on it, not yet.

"We go in and try to find Aiden first. Don't engage unless you absolutely have to. This is the Ylissean's fight, not ours." Shione seemed ready to protest, but nodded grudgingly.

Martin watched, looking for any sign of their target. Unfortunately, there wasn't much. He had no idea which structures belonged to who, and they didn't have time or the manpower to go searching through every single building.

There was a sudden rush of movement below. Martin watched as multiple men started moving, appearing out of tents or from just out of sight Most were headed towards the opposing forces, which now seemed to be a blur of activity. The wind carried distant sounds of clashing arms and shouting men. An unfriendly meeting had devolved into an all-out skirmish, then. Not everyone was charging into battle, though. The large man from before was back, clutching at his face, supported by two others as they walked into the largest tent.

"Whatever just happened is big. They'll be in chaos," Martin said. "If we're going to move, we do it now. I think that big tent belongs to the leader of these thugs, judging by the fact he just walked into it. If I were him, prisoners would be kept nearby. It'll be a trek, but that's our destination. " Shione nodded, and both got up. Weapons were drawn, and the two of them set off for the campsite.

* * *

Robin blocked a sword thrust with a parry, then struck at the vandal who was responsible. The man fell away, bleeding heavily. That had all happened too fast. One moment, Maribelle had shown up, captured and talking about burned villages. The next, Gangrel had accused her of being a spy and demanded reparations for a crusade against his people fifteen years ago. This reparation was in the form of the Fire Emblem, some royal treasure of apparently great power. When refused, he'd sent men after Emmeryn. Chrom had struck back, and the King had declared war. Now Robin and the others were fighting for their life, any plan Robin had long since gone. The last Robin had seen of Maribelle involved her striking her captor in the head with her parasol as an unknown mage hit the woman, Aversa, with wind magic. He had no idea where they were now, but he had to save the Exalt first.

If they survived this, Robin was about to get a lot busier. Ylisse was going to suffer if he didn't get to work. They weren't prepared for war, but the Mad King had brought it all the same.

Aiden stirred with the sound of movement outside. There were a few muffled grunts, a sound like a heavy sack dropping, and then the tent flap opened, revealing an all too familiar figure.

In the dim light stood the weasel-faced archer from before, a knife and rope in his hand. He crouched near Aiden, and held the blade to his throat. It smelled of copper.

"Don't move, or you'll pay," was the only explanation the man offered. Aiden felt a tightening around his wrists. More bindings, he supposed, but why? The answer came a moment later, when the man severed the rope tying him to the post.

Aiden was forced onto his feet. The man grabbed him from behind and pushed him forward, the knife point against his back. What was this man doing? Bron had said that he was keeping Aiden in reserve. Perhaps this man was following through with those orders and relocating him before Gangrel arrived.

He was forced outside, the sunlight blinding after his time in the dark. After blinking a few times, he was able to make out his surroundings. They were surrounded by a few rows of tents, obscuring the outsides. The ground was rocky and barren. Surprisingly, there was a body near the tent, his throat slit. That must have been why the knife smelled coppery. It was used.

The corpse was another of the thugs, though. That meant weasel-face or the other thug was no longer in Bron's employment. Judging by the fact that there hadn't been any alarm, and that weasel-face had the knife to his back, he had to assume that his captor had gone rogue.

That didn't bode well for Aiden. With a knife to his back, he couldn't do much, though. So he waited, marching forward as his captor silently commanded. Then his moment came. A throng of soldiers came running by, responding to something. Weasel-face hid in the shadows, dragging Aiden with him. The man had dropped the knife, suddenly worrying about being seen. Aiden took notice.

He rammed his head back into his captor's and heard a crunch. The man's nose still hadn't healed from the least head-butt he'd received, and Aiden had just made it worse. The man howled in pain, rearing back. Reflexively, he struck. Aiden pivoted, distinctly aware of how much this would hurt if it didn't work. The man's knife sliced right between Aiden's hands, cutting the bindings. Yes, his plan had worked for once! He ran, not willing to give the man another strike. He didn't know where his supplies were, but he had to guess they'd be in the center of the encampment, spoils of war kept in Bron's tent. If the man knew what he held, they definitely were there.

There was surprisingly little resistance on the short journey. The camp site was empty. The archer hadn't followed Aiden, whether he had lost him through the pain or the risk involved in pursuit was too great, Aiden didn't know. His own path was clear, though.

Aiden approached the main tent, only to find a surprising sight. Two men, dead. He recognized them as some of Bron's henchmen. Judging from the wounds, they had been killed by the rogue archer, most likely dead before they could even react. He'd surprised all of them. If he'd made it here, though…

It meant a fight. If he could just find his belongings, he'd be ready. Unfortunately, that meant facing Bron. If the big man was there, he'd have to be ready for a fight. That meant being prepared to duck and dodge attacks until he could find his weapons. He couldn't just leave his gear, or more importantly the package, in Bron's hands, nor could he let the man spread what he knew. He lifted the tent flap and stepped inside.

Empty. The tent was unoccupied. A few torches, hung in sconces far below the cloth roof, cast a dim glow on a scene of chaos. Tables and chairs had been overturned. Books, maps, and other assorted items lay cast on the ground. Something had happened here, but Aiden expected that the only people who could tell him were lying dead outside or were fleeing the camp with a broken nose.

There, on the table. His robes and weapons. Bron had kept them close, perhaps to sell at a later date, or because he didn't know what he was doing with Aiden yet. Aiden walked to the table and started to rearm. Robes, bracers, belt, all there. Swords, now in their sheaths. Everything seemed to be in place. Everything, that was, except the package, the thing which he had crossed dimensions for, and the tome that had been stored with it. In other words, the only things Aiden desperately needed. Apprehension growing, Aiden cast about searching for it.

A ragged cough stopped him in his tracks. Slowly, Aiden approached the source, coming from a shadowed corner of the tent. It was a man, battered, bruised, and bleeding from multiple wounds. It was a man Aiden recognized. It looked like he wouldn't have to track Bron down, not anymore.

"So you escaped…" The voice that came from Bron's mouth was weak and ragged, the voice of a man with little life left. "Good."

"Bron. I didn't think our next meeting would be like this." Aiden spoke firmly, but not harshly. He had no need to yell at a dying man.

"Neither did I. That damned archer, Vanir, made it so," Bron said, before a fit of coughing cut him off. It sounded painful. If this man hadn't wanted to kill him earlier, Aiden would have pitied the man. "He…betrayed us, once he found out about you, your secret. Cut me open and left me to die, said I deserved it."

"He knows? How many others?" Aiden said, with more force than he intended. This was not good. Bron was bad enough, but now that man, Vanir, knew about him, and he'd dissapeared. At least he know why the archer had tried to take him. Apparently, he was perceived as valuable.

"Don't worry, everyone else that knew is dead, put down by his blade. He was…thorough," Bron said, before coughing. This bout lasted longer, and blood appeared on the man's lips. "He won't tell anyone your secret, not after the trouble he went through to hide it."

"What of the bundle I had with me?"

"Taken by the rat…I suppose you'll want it, and him, before he makes a mess…We may not have gotten along, swordsman…but that traitor needs to pay… you're the only one who can make him." The man was chuckling, smiling in the face of death, but he was obviously in pain. "I respect you, you know. I suppose you, agree with Vanir, think I deserve this. Perhaps you're right. You should know the truth, though… my men wouldn't have let your failure go unpunished, so I took you captive. Wouldn't have killed you, though… no, you reminded me of myself when I first started. A bit reckless and stupid, but with promise… I started out like you, dreaming of glory. I went down dark roads, made some bad choices, now I'm here… I don't regret my life, swordsman. I do wish it could have been different." His smile faded, and he looked directly at Aiden. "Remember the people like us, kid. We didn't all start out rotten, and a few, like you, still have some humanity in 'em… don't lose that, kid. Don't make the same mistakes I did. Perhaps, if things had been different…" His thought went unfinished as his eyes slowly closed. Any strength left in the man faded, and he collapsed. Aiden knew he was gone.

Undoubtedly, Vanir was gone as well. He'd be headed for Plegia, a haven for criminals such as himself. From there, it was anyone's guess where he would go. It was something, though.

Bron's tent was well provisioned, befitting the bandit leader of a mercenary faction. After today, though, he was the dead leader of a defunct mercenary faction, so anything not bolted down was sure to be gone by sunset, once the others realized what had happened. Aiden had no use for any of the fineries in the tent, but he could use the coin and travel supplies he found. He packed as much as he could carry.

Before leaving, though, he had one thing left to do. He grabbed one of the torches off the wall and hurled it at the side of the tent. He hadn't liked Bron in life, but after what the man had said… he wasn't going to let the corpse be picked clean by vultures or bandits. He grabbed another and started to methodically light pieces of canvas that he could reach. Soon, the smoke was overbearing, and he was forced to leave, tossing the torch behind him. He stepped back and looked. The tent was now an inferno, or more appropriately a pyre. Grabbing his newly acquired supplies, he walked off, towards Plegia.

He would find Vanir. He would take back what had been stolen from him. It had been his theft in the first place, after all.

* * *

This was the third group Martin had seen in the camp. He was pressed against a tent wall, completely silent. Shione was similarly hidden across the gap between structures. On the other side of the wall was a small group of mercenaries and bandits, four or five by the sounds of things. Martin couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could make out the sounds of smashing and breaking. It sounded like they were looting their own men.

Just like the last two groups, interestingly. Deciding to infiltrate the camp and actually doing it had been separate matters entirely. Their progress down the Cliffside, and then to the camp's outskirts, had been painfully slow. Since then, they had been ever so slowly and carefully making their way into the small encampment, ensuring that they weren't seen. There was almost no reason for the caution: everyone was gone, most likely taking part in the skirmish. From this distance, the fighting seemed over. There was very little movement anymore, and the Plegian forces been decimated, with the exception of a few men let here and those that had left at the start of battle. Those that remained on the field were Ylissean forces by their appearance, Shepherds under the service of the Exalt. They seemed ready to leave, so whatever purpose they had come here for, perhaps relating to the captured noblewoman from earlier, had been achieved.

And yet, despite the scarcity of the remaining mercenaries, Martin had managed to run into what had to be the majority. Three groups, all around four to six men each, had crossed their paths since they arrived. Each had been sacking what was left in the encampment, taking whatever was available. He'd overheard a rumor that the group's leader was dead, and so everyone that remained was trying to loot what they could and leave. The only thing that had prevented the various groups from interacting with each other in the small camp was a sort of professional courtesy: each group seemed content to stick to their own territory, not interfering with the others. Shine and Martin most likely would have no such forgiveness.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be converging on their target: the command tent. It was most likely to hold information about Aiden if he was here, but it was also going to be the best target for the raiders. He wasn't sure why no one had sacked it already, in fact.

Eventually the looters moved on, as they usually did. Martin took a few hesitant steps out, and then motioned when the coast was clear. Shione followed, and the two kept moving. Suddenly, Shione stopped.

"Is that smoke?" Sure enough, a billowing plume of grey and black smoke was blowing over the horizon. That hadn't been there when they were scouting out the campsite.

"It might be looters. We should check."

There were no more interruptions, and soon the two found themselves outside what had to be the company's defunct command tent. Martin had been wrong, it seemed. A few enterprising souls had attempted to loot the tent, with no success. They had been struck down, tough what was interesting to Martin were the wounds. With the exception of two corpses, the wounds were fresh and precise. They were the work of someone skilled with a sword, or perhaps with two.

"Looks like Aiden's work," was all he said.

"Yep. He was here, all right," Shione responded. "Think he did this?" He was referring to the inferno that had engulfed the central tent in the complex, the very one they had hoped to search.

"I wouldn't be surprised. But I think the fire came first, these corpses look fresh. He must still be out there." Shione nodded, and grimaced.

"Now he's gone, and we're no better off. There's no signs of anything. He could be in Plegia or on his way to Ragna Ferox by now, and we wouldn't know." Shione hung his head, and walked away.

Martin scanned for other clues, but found nothing. There could have been anything here to allow Aiden to travel, including gear and supplies. If he had found a horse, he could be well beyond their reach, and he'd be able to carry enough supplies to keep him in stock for weeks.

"Martin! Watch out!"

There was the hitch, right on time. Shione pointing to the main path in the camp, where the gang of looters from before were approaching quickly. Apparently, they had decided any spoils left over were worth the risk. Or, judging by the snarl from one of them, they didn't like the encroaching adventurers. Martin drew his blade.

In fact, it was just Martin who drew his weapon. Shione seemed content to stand there, perfectly at ease. Even as the bandits drew closer, he stood quite nonchalantly, seemingly at ease with the whole situation.

"Shione, wake up! What in Grima's name are you doing?" Shione merely grinned.

"Just following orders. I believe you said something about me not fighting these guys unless you told me to?" For a brief moment, all Martin could do was stare in disbelief. Then he nodded, defeated.

"Fine, permission granted. And to think, everyone thinks _I'm_ the childish one!"

Several things happened all at once. Shione drew his axe. Two of the bandits charged in. Martin blocked the downward swing of one's axe, while the other found his mark simply gone. Then the second was hit from behind, and he fell.

The others were momentarily taken aback by Shione's incredible reaction time. Then the fight began in earnest, two thugs surrounding each of the adventurers. Martin grinned. It wasn't a fair fight, to be sure, but the thugs didn't realize just how heavily the odds were tilted against them. He wouldn't even need his magic.

The first, the one that had tried the flanking attack, went in for a sideways strike. Judging by the angle of attack, he really meant to throw Martin's guard off, providing an opening for the other one. Martin didn't oblige, instead deflecting the strike in the same direction as the man's forward momentum, stepping back as the man tumbled into his comrade. It wouldn't have been hard to pick them off, but Martin believed in second chances. As they got off, Martin motioned into the distance.

"You've still got a chance to leave."

The swing of an axe was answer enough for that question. Martin jumped to the side, watching the axe cleave dirt. These men were untrained, and had let their emotions get the best of them. The one who swung had exposed his side. He swung out at the vulnerable man, striking him down. His friend thought he had an opening and swung. Martin continued forward down the arc of his own swing, sliding under the arc of the bandit's sword. As he came back up, he pivoted and thrust upward. The bandit, unprepared, met his friend's fate. They never had any chance.

Martin was exceptional at reading his enemy's movements and manipulating those actions so they favored him. It was a skill equally as useful in close combat as it was looking over the entire battlefield.

While Martin read his opponents and chose the proper counter move, Shione was just never there. Every attack his assailants made found only empty air, while they found themselves under attack from the opposite direction. Shione wouldn't allow himself to be pinned down or stopped in his relentless assault. If the bandits tried to defend themselves, they found the attacks coming from an entirely different angle. The two couldn't keep up, and soon fell under a hail of blows.

"Well, that was easy," Martin said, looking over to Shione.

"If only finding Aiden was so simple." Shione replied, before casting his head down. "This all seems so insane. How are we supposed to find Aiden in the middle of a war?"

The situation did seem hopeless. There were just too many places to search, and it'd get a lot harder with a war brewing. Martin was a strategist, but there wasn't any strategy for finding one man who could be anywhere on the continent. Aiden always seemed one step ahead of them. Foot travel or even horses just weren't quick enough to catch someone who was already so far ahead of them.

Those weren't the only methods of travel available, though. Martin had an idea.

"Shione, we're going to need your help for this," Martin said. Shione looked up, a questioning look on his face. "We can't hope to find Aiden, let alone catch him, on foot. You don't like foot travel, though. We're close to the border, so maybe-"

"I was thinking the same thing," Shione responded. "The border guards will make it difficult, but I can handle them. With the leftover supplies we have, I should be able to make the ride. Just make sure to tell Cainne where I am, alright? I'd hate to worry her."

"Cainne, worry about you? Ha!" Martin couldn't contain himself. The idea was ridiculous. "She'll be glad you're gone. Something about your casual disrespect just gets at her, I think. I'll tell them though, don't worry."

They walked off in the direction of their horses, which had been left some distance away to graze on the sparse grass. Martin was aware that he had just separated Shione from the rest of the group, but it wouldn't be for long. He had faith in his companion's abilities. They shook hands before parting ways. Shione headed west, while Martin headed back to the capital. Shione wasn't something to worry about, not while so many other issues were presenting themselves. For example, he needed to figure out how to explain to the others what they had ust missed.

* * *

Somehow, they'd made it all back alive. As much as Robin would have liked to credit his tactical skill, there had been too much confusion from the sudden assault to formulate a real strategy. No, they'd all made it because the enemy had underestimated. Just because Ylisse was a peaceful country didn't mean its forces weren't prepared for a fight. Gangrel himself had seen to their preparations with his constant raids.

That didn't mean Robin was enthralled with the idea of the war they were now entangled it, however. Neither were any of the Shepherds, by the sound of things.

"Forgive me, Emm. I acted rashly." Yes, Chrom had. Unfortunately, rashness was the only option available at the time. Gangrel had forced it upon them. Now the country was going to suffer for his madness, and Chrom was going to blame himself.

"It's all right, Chrom. King Gangrel is the one at fault here. You were only protecting me." Apparently Emmeryn was thinking the same thing. Robin was coming to understand just how effective a leader she was, considering her age. He hoped she was as good at convincing her brother as she was with the people. Frederick approached the gathering.

"The Mad King will be rallying his forces, if they have not mobilized already. I suggest we make haste back to Ylisstol and discuss our strategy." That was his cue, he supposed. Robin was going to get a lot busier. And then there were the Risen to consider, wherever they had come from…

"Of course, Frederick. It seems war is upon us. We must protect the Ylissean people at all costs." Emmeryn really was a saint, it seemed. A war starts and her first thoughts are of her people. The world needed more leaders like her. Unfortunately, people like Gangrel would always be around to prevent that.

Robin caught up to Chrom as they departed the meeting.

"You know it isn't your fault. If anyone here is to blame, it's me. I should have predicted this," Robin said. It was true, too. Anyone with more sense would have prepared thoroughly for an attack by the infamous Mad King.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but it's no use assigning blame anymore," Chrom responded. "I understand that, and I know you aren't at fault either. I don't envy you, though. You're going to be busy in the next few days. We all are, I suppose, but I know youll pull through." If only Robin had that much faith in himself. He was new to this, even with his natural talent, and he was still troubled by his vision. He couldn't say that, though.

"I'll do my best," he said. Chrom nodded.

"When do you think we'll be back in Ylisstol?" he asked.

"I'd estimate that starting now will get us back to the capital by daybreak. It looks like no one will be resting tonight," Robin added ruefully.

"Well, we'd better not keep them waiting," Chrom finished. "Let's go." He paused for a second, though, before turning to Robin. "We'll make it through this, my friend. Gangrel doesn't know what a mistake he's made today."

* * *

_Don't worry, guys, I'm not dead. Well, I mean, if anyone was actually worried. I'm fine!_

_However, I will admit that I am extremely late with this, as it has been far over a month. I believe I set myself an optimistic 10 days to create this chapter. As it easily matches the length of the rest of the story so far, this was foolish. Combined with two weeks of complete and utter busyness from a series of massive projects in class, and this took some time to make._

_I'll try to keep to some form of schedule, don't worry. IF the other chapters are like this, though, I'll probably update more sparingly than I did at the beginning. Is this really only chapter 4? Dang._

_As always, please review, and check my bio for a (mostly spoiler free) look into my decision process for the chapter._


	5. Chapter 5: Inflitration

_Hey everyone, author's note at the beginning this time. To date, this story has almost 300 views (In fact, last I checked, it was 299. By the time this goes up, some errant stranger might have made it hit 300). That makes me very happy, because it means that means that I actually wrote something that people consider viewing. However, to date this story has exactly two reviews, 0 likes, and 0 favorites. This, combined with the fact that many views consider the first chapter alone, makes me worry that my writing, while apparently interesting enough to get people to look, isn't good enough to keep them interested. _

_I plan on continuing to write this, but I want to write what people want to read, because that's part of the reason I'm even doing this. But with no one writing a review, I don't know if people enjoy this or not, as well as what they do/don't like about it. _

_So all I'm asking is that, if you take the time to read through this, that you please leave a review. It's only a few sentences, but it would be incredibly helpful to me as a writer, and hopefully result in a better product for you the readers. Even if your review absolutely rips this thing to shreds, as long as it's a valid look into the quality of this story, I'll take it to heart. I can handle it. To anyone who bothers to review from here, thank you._

_As usual, there will be extra stuff in my bio, sort of a look behind the scenes (though it may take a little time to post). And because I'm realizing it's that time and I should really post this soon (which, if you're reading this, means I already have), Happy Holidays!_

* * *

"So we helped start a war…"

"You what?"

"That's a little extreme, I guess. I suppose all we really did was kill a few thugs and watch the war start. From a distance. And we lost track of Aiden. Oh, and I sent Shione away all alone… Overall, a productive day."

"If all you did was completely fail our main objective and squander what might be our only chance to find Aiden, that's great! In fact, you've gotten rid of the most annoying member of our team in the process. Fantastic job!"

"You don't really mean that, do you?"

"No, Martin. I'm actually livid right now. The only thing saving you is that you didn't have much of a choice. But don't push it." Cainne continued to stare Martin down for a few more moments, but then her expression softened. "I'm assuming you didn't just send Shione away to make me happy, though. Tell me, what are you planning?"

That was the question Martin had been asking himself the whole way here. It had seemed like a good plan when he first posed it to Shione, but the more he considered it, the more flaws and snags he saw. It had been a simple enough idea, but the sheer logistics of splitting up in the middle of wartime had made it incredibly complicated.

Of course, maybe he was simply seeing things that weren't really there. Riding all night to get back to the capital had not been the best idea he'd ever had, especially after taking yesterday morning to ride out. Essentially, Martin was running on a few hours of sleep, and he was starting to feel it. Whether that had impacted his decision making abilities remained to be seen, but since he was back at the camp, he was ready to drop. Before he could sleep, though, he had to make sure Cainne didn't flay him alive.

"I thought I'd get him back into his element. If we're supposed to have any chance at finding Aiden, we're going to need him doing what he does best." Cainne nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. If only Martin had the same confidence.

* * *

There was something about the mountains that cheered Shione.

He'd woken early after sleeping the night, with the intent of making as much progress into the mountain range as he could. Fortunately, his destination was near and the weather was pleasant, if a little chilly. He also felt livelier than he had in weeks.

Perhaps it was the mountains' familiarity, as he had spent much of his life in terrain very similar to this. Perhaps it was because he was significantly more comfortable, the altitude having cooled the desert temperature that had tormented him for so long. Or perhaps it was simply giddiness from the thinner air up here.

Personally, he suspected something else. The mountains thrust into the sky, extending northwards along Ylisse's border from the steppes where he had parted ways with Martin. They weren't overly large, but they were the highest terrain Shione had been in since he'd arrived. These mountains brought him closer to the sky. It called out to him, in a way. The wide blue expanse overhead was ever present and infallible, one true constant in the chaos. He was glad to be back.

He was hoping to reach the nearest Ylissean outpost. If his memory was correct, the site would be maintained by the pegasus knights, and they were exactly who he needed to see. When searching for someone, it often helped to have a bird's eye view.

Something stopped him cold. A noise, distant enough that he almost hadn't heard it at first. The sound was something he knew well though, the distinct flap of leathery wings slicing through the air, lifting a creature through the air. A look behind him confirmed what he already knew.

_Wyverns._

They soared overhead, not noticing the sole traveler below. Before they passed out of sight, he was able to make out three of them, each with a rider on their back. He was barely able to make out the colorations and markings of the Plegian military.

Shione cursed, and started to run. The enemy seemed to be heading to the exact same spot as he was. If there were wyverns, they had to be moving in advance of enemy ground forces. He had to beat them. He couldn't let the enemy control his sky.

* * *

Their return to the city was uneventful. The Shepherds themselves were somber, all too aware of what the coming months would bring. Chrom sympathized. As captain of the Shepherds and prince of Ylisse, many would look to him for leadership. He couldn't show weakness or fear, even though he dreaded the war to come. Fighting the Mad King would be brutal, a war that would grievously wound the people of both nations and decimate their armed forces. The crusade led by his father fifteen years ago had proven that. Emmeryn would ensure that the same terrible tactics employed by their father would not be brought into use, but many young and innocent on both sides would still die.

No, Ylisse could ill afford the war it found itself in. Which is why Chrom found himself contemplating an idea that could bring the war to a quick close. He had yet to discuss it with Robin, but he was confident that the tactician would see its wisdom. He planned to lead the Shepherds into enemy territory and face Gangrel directly. With the Mad King gone, peace could be negotiated, and needless bloodshed avoided.

Unfortunately, Emmeryn would never endorse such a move. She was a peaceful soul, and such a targeted attack would go against her nature. Chrom knew that even now, before even reaching the castle, she was already trying to formulate a diplomatic solution. As such, his plan would have no support from the Ylissean forces. Considering the nation's current nonexistent military might, however, it wouldn't have been much help anyway.

He would need to put his plan into action, no matter the consequences. It was the best way to safeguard his people.

"Chrom, are we there yet? I'm tired…" His little sister, Lissa, finished with a yawn. She had been so young, even younger than he had been, when their father died. She hadn't known him well. He himself had barely known the man. If this escalated, it would be her first taste of real war. She was strong though, as was everyone in the Shepherds. She'd make it. It didn't stop him from worrying.

"We're almost home, Lissa. We can rest then." They'd been marching all night, determined to make it to the city as quickly as possible. Even now, the Shepherds were headed directly through the city, to the castle at its heart. They were the only ones who knew about the war they found themselves in, after all. Plans needed to be drafted, troops organized, reserves called into action. There was a lot of work to do.

Chrom grinned ruefully. If his plan worked, none of it would be necessary. Lissa waved at him, then sleepily motioned or him to come over.

"Chrom, I wanted to give you these. You've been through a lot, and I thought these might brighten your mood. You want some?" She asked, waving around a small satchel. Chrom recognized them as a certain type of candy. They had been a favorite of his when he was a child, a taste that Lissa had also acquired. While he had no plan to actually eat them, he might as well take them to cheer her.

"Sure, Lissa. Thank you." She handed over the satchel and he stuffed it into his belt. He might indulge in them later, after all. The weeks ahead wouldn't be so kind, and these might help to brighten the coming days.

* * *

As usual, Cainne wound up with the difficult task. It wasn't just exploring the seediest part of town in search for a decrepit tavern, or trying to find evidence of a sinister plot, or even attempting to do so without being noticed. No, she had handled that, and had even taken steps to disguise the fact that she was a Taguel. No, the hard part was keeping watch while Lyta risked her own life exploring the place.

They hadn't been idle while the boys had gone off and started a war. Once Lyta had found her and explained the situation, and after she got over her initial anger at their stupidity, they had set off to uncover as much as they could about the mysterious note they had found, and who the individual identified only as V. was.

Lyta had managed to build up some knowledge of the city, and she'd identified the most probable target for their search. It was an old, dingy tavern whose owners had abandoned it recently. Rumor had it that a group of thugs had taken up residence inside. When they had arrived at the site, it was occupied, but not by thugs. Whoever was inside was a lot quieter, as if they hoped to avoid bringing attention on themselves.

It had been too risky to try and get inside, so Cainne and Lyta had taken turns watching the site from a distance. All day, strange individuals had entered the site, and no one had left. They were careful, trying not to be seen. But they were unprepared for Lyta's expertise in matters such as this, and she was able to pick them out from a crowd. Unfortunately, the pair had still been unable to glimpse any individual's identity, as they had worn long, hooded cloaks that made it impossible to discern any features underneath. Their scouting mission had been somewhat successful, but they had planned more for today.

To their surprise, they had returned to the site only to find it entirely devoid of life. There had been no light, no sound, and no one from yesterday could be found. It was as if everyone had decided to leave all at once. Cainne worried that they had perhaps noticed their two observers.

Or worse, that whatever plan V. made had been set in motion.

They wouldn't have found anything waiting around, so Lyta volunteered to look around inside. Cainne still didn't know why she'd let the archer go, but it was too late to change anything. Lyta was now inside, most likely taking her time to avoid potential detection. Cainne worried that she had spent too long in there, but any entrance she made would risk further alerting anyone that the previous occupants had left behind. So she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

This was worrying. It would be getting dark soon, and there had been absolutely no sing from Lyta yet. Unless she had found something serious, she wouldn't have let Cainne wait this long. Caution be damned, Cainne was going in.

She crossed the street towards the doorway, slowly opened the worn door, and took a few careful steps inside. The place was definitely abandoned. Chairs rested on tables, unused, and the bar in the corner sat empty. No one was here. The main room, lit by the morning sun, was still rather dim, thanks in part to windows that hadn't been cleaned since the time of the last Exalt. Cainne was still able to make out a darker rectangle in the corner, a shadowed doorway leading into another room.

She took a cautious step forward, then another. She didn't see any traps, but she wasn't taking any chances.

_CREAK!_

Damn! Cainne froze. There weren't any dangers to be seen. There _were_ creaky floorboards. If she was undone by poor construction…

"Huh?" A voice, belonging to a man. As quietly as possible, Cainne moved behind the bar counter, just out of sight of the doorway. Footsteps came closer.

"Someone there? Hello?" It was definitely a man. It wasn't a voice she recognized. He started to walk around the room.

"Damned rats. Stuck here, on guard duty, and all I see are rats. Why'd they have to go off to the castle and leave me behind? I can help, too! 'You're too boisterous,' they said. 'You'll let everyone know what we're doing' is what they thought. Maybe I _should_ let everyone know, show them not to disrespect me." The speaker walked past the bar, and Cainne made out the almost silent sound of fabric rustling. Taguel hearing was sometimes a curse, but it helped in situations like this. At least the man wasn't wearing armor or weaponry. She'd have heard the clinking.

"Hey, who's th-" The man's call was cut off by a loud thunk, as if a bag of grain had just fallen from the ceiling. Then there was silence.

"Cainne? It's all clear. Nice attempt."

Cainne slowly peeked over the bar, only to see Lyta on top of a prone figure, tying a rope around his hands.

"Where'd you come from? And what do you mean, 'nice attempt?'" Lyta just grinned.

"I've been up in the rafters for much too long. I wanted to get the jump on that guy, but he wasn't moving, and I couldn't get to him. Thankfully, you came along with your, err, substandard stealth tactics and got him up." Cainne grimaced.

"Was I really that bad?"

"It was an admirable effort for a beginner." Lyta grinned. "But think of it this way: if you were actually good at being undetected, we wouldn't have gotten this guy! Never change, bunny."

"Don't call me bunny. Shione gives me enough trouble with his nicknames." Cainne knew that Lyta had thrown that in to make her forget the crude appraisal of her stealth ability, but Cainne didn't bring it back up. In truth, she knew that she wasn't the best at what Lyta did. But Lyta also couldn't hold her own in a close fight as well as Cainne, nor could she turn into a war beast. They had different skill sets. That's why they worked together. "So who is this fellow, anyway?"

"I have no idea, but his outfit's telling me something." Cainne looked at the man, and quickly saw what Lyta meant. The man, now unconscious and prone, wore a uniform of grey, black, and gold. Over this was the cloak, also black, as well as a headdress formed from an animal skull. Most interestingly was his collar, which stared back at them through six gold embossed eyes, the mark of a dark mage in service of the Grimleal.

They were here, in the city. And if Cainne had understood the man's ramblings right, they were at the castle.

"Damn. Lyta, go wake up Martin. Tell him we've got a problem." Cainne took another second to look over the unconscious man, wrapped in the coat which marked its wearer as Grimleal.

"Wait a second. I've got an idea."

* * *

There was very little that was remarkable about Spine's End. The town, really a few small homes clustered around a central plaza, was named after its position at the very end of the mountain ranges to the north. It was here that the Steppes to the west of Ylisstol flattened off, forming a low, rolling desert. To the west and the south lay the main body of the Theocracy of Plegia. Many travelers had often joked, however, that seeing one part of the country allowed you to see it all, as much of the land was the same desert, occasionally interrupted by a mountain chain. Off the coast were two large islands that boasted the only real greenery to be found in the nation.

Aiden was really starting to appreciate the geography lessons he had taken as a child. He'd enjoyed it then, but a knowledge of the land was proving incredibly useful now that he was on his own.

All this desert had not been kind to Plegia's food or water supplies, and Aiden wondered if the many conflicts between this nation and Ylisstol had been sparked for reasons beyond their long-standing religious conflict. It certainly explained the sights he saw as he wandered the settlement.

Spine's End had seen better days. Actually, Aiden was unsure if it had. The place actually might have started out in its current squalor, and just never gotten better. The buildings here were little more than simple mud huts, seemingly a strong breeze away from falling over. The people were little better. A few individuals rested in what shade they could find. They looked like they hadn't eaten anything substantial in a long time. Aiden had been hungry when traveling the Ylissean countryside, but he'd never been this bad. And at least he'd been able to hunt and forage there. The desert here was unyielding.

People had survived here before, though. There were human settlements here for a long time, and they had done well. The war fifteen years ago had changed that. Spine's End was directly at the end of a major border crossing between Ylisse and Plegia, and it had been right in the way of the Exalt's advancing forces during the crusade fifteen years ago. The war was over, but its effects were still felt in a lot of small communities like this one. Gangrel's increasingly strict rule hadn't helped matters; much of the available food and water was diverted to the capital, leaving the rest of the nation to suffer.

"Hey, outsider, you looking for something?"

It was one of the locals, seemingly healthier than the others. Aiden was, in fact, looking for something, or more accurately some_one_. He knew he wasn't going to get any help from this fellow, though. He was most likely a front for the town's thriving black market. He was probably waiting for some sort of phrase that would tip him off to the fact that Aiden was part of the business, a phrase that Aiden didn't know.

"No, just passing through." The man looked slightly disappointed as his customer walked away, but quickly moved on. Spine's End was a haven for criminals and marauders of all types, being located so close to the Ylissean Border. Ylissean Forces couldn't enter without incurring conflict, and any Plegian forces were far off and uncaring, ususlly stationed much closer to the capital. Black market deals happened out in the open, wanted criminals walked about in broad daylight, and there was nothing that was going to stop them. Very little crime actually occurred within the town, and most of it was a result of short tempers or large kegs. The criminals here wanted to keep their haven intact, after all. The locals couldn't do much to stop them, and most had no desire to. The bandits' money, no matter how ill-gotten, was still the only thing driving the economy here.

As a result, Spine's End had been the first place Aiden could think of to try and find Vanir. The criminal would have wanted to get into friendly territory as quickly as possible. Aiden had worried about the possibility of him selling off Aiden's belongings, but a search of the local markets revealed nothing. Most likely, he couldn't find an appropriate buyer for the rather exotic items he had found, so he was holding on to them. Well, that or they were the bait in a trap Aiden was walking right into. Vanir had wanted him for a reason, and even though he'd given the man the slip, he doubted Vanir would give up that easily. Unfortunately, he didn't have much of a choice. If it was a trap, he'd just have to make sure he didn't spring it.

There hadn't been any leads yet, but he hadn't been here long. It really wasn't a matter of if, but when Vanir had been here. If he could find a black market smuggler with loose enough lips, he might be able to find out how long ago Vanir had passed through, and maybe even where he hoped to go. It was rumored that the black market in places like this made a habit of finding out everything it could about its clients, even if they themselves didn't know it.

Something caught his eye. Down the path, a building stood, isolated from all the others. It was somewhat larger than most of the structures here, and carefully constructed; ornate, but not extravagant. A small crowd had formed in front of the building, but Aiden couldn't see what was going on from this distance.

As he got closer, he could make out more. The building was much like the other huts around it, but it had been maintained well. The tan surface was spotless. There was a simple door, but what was gracefully painted onto the building's front over it was more interesting. Six great eyes gleamed golden in the sun. This place belonged to the Grimleal, Plegia's official religion. This had to be a small temple or shrine. That was something, but Aiden didn't know why a crowd had gathered in front of the shrine.

The door swung open, and Aiden watched a figure, adorned with the ornate headdress of a Pegian sorcerer or sage, stepped out. He approached the nearest in the crowd, a frail old man, kneeling on the ground. Aiden tensed. From what he knew of the fanatic cult, he was prepared for things to turn ugly.

The priest pulled something from his robe, and knelt down to the old man. Slowly, the man grasped onto the object, and stood. He bowed his head, turned, and slowly walked away. As he passed, Aiden was able to see the smile on his face, and its source: a fresh loaf of bread, grasped feebly in the old man's hand. The Grimleal were feeding these people?

Aiden could appreciate a good deed, but this didn't exactly fit the image he had possessed of these cultists before. Grimleal were supposed to be fatalists, fanatical servants of Grima who believed that the return of their master was inevitable. They had devoted themselves to bringing His return about all the quicker as a result, determined to demolish anything in their way, even entire countries. In short, not the kind of people to run a charity operation.

Well, he wasn't going to find out anything standing here ruminating. Aiden approached the temple.

* * *

Fighting Wyverns wasn't too difficult, if you could approach it properly. Wind magic could tear holes in the wing membrane, causing them to plummet. Arrows could act similarly, and could also hit critical muscles in the wings. Even a well-aimed sword or lance strike could cripple them. They were more resistant to such attacks than their Ylissean counterpart, the pegasus, but they weren't invincible, assuming you could reach them.

Trying to fight them on foot with only an axe for protection was an entirely different matter.

Things had been going relatively smoothly when one of the wyvern riders had circled back and found Shione, exposed on the mountainside as he was. The Plegian Military being what they were, a duo of wyvern riders had immediately given him a warm welcome. Shione dove and tucked into a roll as a wyvern flew by, belching fire. Perhaps these beasts were giving him _too_ warm of a welcome.

Internally, Shione cursed his luck. He had almost been there. If he remembered correctly, the outpost was literally just over the next rise. He wasn't going to get anywhere with these two overgrown lizards on his back, though. It was a shame, there wasn't a wind tome in sight, not that he knew how to use one. He'd just have to improvise.

The second wyvern was coming in close. This one's rider was more zealous, and had repeatedly attempted to skewer Shione with his lance. That stopped now. The rider was getting sloppy, as was the wyvern. The rider was Plegian, meaning he had most likely trained in the desert, while the wyvern's reptilian heritage meant it slowed down somewhat in the cold. Both were feeling the chill by now, and Shione could use that.

The lance extended, coming in fast. Shione leaned past the strike, and then swung his axe. The rider tried to pull back, but he was too slow. The axe caught onto a hard part on the wyvern's saddle, and Shione pulled. He almost lost his grip on the axe, but it didn't take much to redirect the poorly handled wyvern into the ground. The rider tumbled onto the ground, the straps holding him in place severed. He looked to have been knocked out cold by the fall; Shione didn't think he was going to be a problem. The wyvern was bruised, but alive. It took off without a second glance, flying off into the distance. Apparently, it had decided that enough was enough. That left one wyvern still pursuing Shione. It was just now pulling around from the last attack.

Shione grabbed the rider's lance. It was weighted for striking, but wasn't particularly heavy so as to lessen the load on the animal, which did after all have to maintain flight. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. The second rider drew close, and Shione could already fell the heat radiating from its maw. If this didn't work, he was going to be very hot, very quickly. And Shione _hated _being too hot. It was why he had wanted out of that desert as quickly as possible.

He put himself directly in front of the wyvern's flight path. It started to breathe fire, the cone extending out but still fairly ahead of him. He reversed his grip on the lance, and reached back. He waited, and aimed. He had one chance. The flames grew closer, and the intensity of the heat increased. It grew uncomfortably close, and the wyvern was almost directly behind.

_NOW!_

It was no javelin, but when he tossed the lance, it didn't need to be. It crossed the short distance in an instant, and the weighted head had little trouble piercing the thin scales on the wyvern's underbelly. The beast roared in pain and veered to the side, the flame spout cut off. It fell to the ground a short distance away, roaring in pain. Shione approached. The beast was mad with pain, the lance sticking up into the air. The rider, it seemed, had been crushed underneath the wyvern, the man's neck had snapped on impact. Shione grimaced. It was not a desirable way to go, but at least it hadn't been too painful.

The wyvern was not so lucky. It was clearly alive, but in great distress. Shione pitied the creature. He hadn't wanted to cause too much pain, even to these beasts; he respected wyverns too much. There had been no other choice, though. He couldn't leave it to suffer, however. Shione drew close and drew his axe, careful to avoid the creature's flailing limbs. He put it out of his misery. There wasn't anything else he could have done to help it.

With the fight over, Shione had little trouble cresting the next rise. The sight that greeted him, however, was less then pleasant. In the valley below, an Ylissean outpost rested. It consisted of a cluster of wooden buildings surrounding a central clearing and flanked by a thin wall, all still covered in a light dusting of snow from a previous storm. A small path wound off into the distance, the outpost's only connection to the Capital. It wasn't used much, for there was no need. Just inside the outpost's perimeter was a massive stone tower, reaching high into the heavens. Shione could make out the tall windows at the tower's top and the stables at its base. It served as housing for the garrison's pegasi, for this base was indeed a border outpost for Ylisse's pegasus knights, as he had hoped.

More importantly, it was under attack. Flames rose from the town, and wyverns circled the tower. They were keeping away for now, but it wouldn't be long until they worked up the nerve to attack. Shione shook his head. This wasn't going to end well.

* * *

The crowd was gone, all having departed with arms full of food and water. Soon after, the Grimleal priest had retired into the temple. Now, Aiden was alone on the path. He approached the temple door and pushed against it. To his surprise, it wasn't locked, and swung open without a sound. Aiden stepped inside. Again, there was nothing to stop him. The small interior of the temple lie before him. It was modest, merely a few wooden benches facing a small altar. The wall behind the altar was taken up by a window decorated with the stained-glass symbol of the Grima. The wall to his right had a small door, probably leading to the living quarters for the priests. Other than that, it seemed empty.

"Greetings."

Aiden whipped around. Sitting bowed over in a chair behind him was the priest from before, face covered by his headdress. He stood.

"Welcome, traveler. If you wish to pay your respects to Grima, I will let you be. If you have come seeking advice, you are in the right place. Our lord has great knowledge of what is to come." He looked over at Aiden, who was able to glimpse his face. The priest seemed surprisingly…gentle. His expression was not that of a crazed cultist, but a kindly father or uncle. The smile he wore was faint, but genuine. Advice? Perhaps not, but Aiden needed help from someone, and a temple in this small of a village was sure to be well-notified. He wasn't prepared to trust this man, and yet…

"Questions, more accurately. About life in this village, if you would be so kind." The priest bowed his head.

"I would be happy to assist." So far, so good. But what to ask?

"If you wouldn't mind me asking, what were you doing out there, earlier?" The priest nodded, and spread his hands.

"The people in this village do not have much. Drought and famine have plagued the country for so long that some remote corners of the kingdom starve." That was a cover up for the King's greed, no doubt, but Aiden didn't interrupt. "The more prosperous of us wish to aid our less fortunate brethren, and so temples and shrines located in places such as these give out food to the people, as an act of goodwill and faith."

The Grimleal were distributing food to those in need? It was certainly interesting information. Right now, he had a task to complete, though.

"That is very kind of you. But has anyone, well, unusual passed through recently? Perhaps stopping at the temple for your charity?" The priest stared at him for a second, and then spoke.

"Ah, you must be him. The man you seek, the archer Vanir, was indeed here. He was not here long before he angered one of the locals and was chased out. Many are after him now. You will find him a day's march to the west." Aiden blinked.

"Wait, I…what?" The man chuckled.

"You must be wondering how I know. Your coming was foretold by Grima. I know that you seek the one who betrayed his leader, and that he has something very precious that you see as your own, though what it was has not been revealed. I was told to assist you as I could, and, just as was told, you arrived."

Aiden blinked, again. That certainly was spooky. It also sounded extremely suspicious. The gods had influence, to be sure, but he doubted Grima would provide him any assistance on his own particular quest. This had to be a setup. Vanir, or worse, was probably waiting in ambush. And yet, it was his only lead. He'd just have to get the drop on his attackers first.

"Thank you, sir. I won't take any more of your time." Aiden turned and passed through the door, but as it closed, the priest said something else.

"Take heed, young one. Your enemies, both known and unknown, await you in the desert. And yet, you may find unexpected allies as well. It is only a matter of time." Aiden stopped. This man really had to stop throwing out comments like that. It was probably a bunch of words for the gullible fool, but Aiden was somewhat troubled, nonetheless. The priest had seemed _too_ knowledgeable. It might be a very bad sign. Aiden always could just turn around and wait for the next promising lead…

No he couldn't. This was too enticing, and despite every rational thought telling him otherwise, Aiden knew he was going. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

* * *

Cordelia sat, and waited. It was all she could do. No one could take off, not with all the wyverns in the air. Not that they could fight the Plegians on the ground, either. The last group to try had scared the Plegians off for a short time, but the wyverns had already returned. Her own sisters would not be. They were trapped, waiting to die.

The outpost had barely received word that they were at war when Plegia had struck the first blow. The wyverns had been a surprise attack, and anyone who had been outside had either fled here, or fallen. The village outside had been evacuated, and the knights had attempted to force the Plegians back. It had been unsuccessful: there were too many wyverns, and they had prepared for this fight. The attack was quick enough to catch the Ylisseasn of guard, and they had retreated into their fortifications. This tower, specifically.

This was the main garrison for the Ylissean Pegasus Knights. As such, it had been constructed to watch over a mountain pass in the higher elevations that pegasi favored. The small settlement here consisted mostly of housing and facilities for the knights stationed here, or it had before it started burning. The tower itself was a fortified structure that offered a good vantage point over the surrounding area and strong defensive positions. It had been built in the time of the last Exalt, and it now served as the command center for any pegasus knights watching over the border, and the stables built into its base could maintain their mounts.

Unfortunately, most of the tower was dormant, as the pegasus knights simply lacked the manpower to occupy most of it. Even at their best, the squadron never numbered more than about 30 during peacetime, and almost half their number were at the capital under Captain Phila's command, watching over the Exalt. Sixteen knights had been stationed here, but the Plegiaans first strike had caught them all off guard, and three had fallen by the time the alarm was raised. Their first counterattack had cost four more their lives before it was called off. Nine knights including herself now remained, though three were outside, attempting to gather information on the enemy. They were surrounded by a veritable army of wyverns. The enemy was estimated to have at least two squadrons, almost fifty wyverns and their riders.

Another fireball hit the tower, and the structure shook. Cordelia closed her eyes. No, she was not going to die here. It couldn't end like this. Someone would come up with a way to beat the Plegians back, or to escape. Maybe the rest of the Ylissean forces would come. This was an important site, the only structure guarding this path to Ylisstol. Maybe He would be leading the attack! Well, she could dream.

Of course, no one would think that the enemy had decided to use a small dirt road as their main attack highway, which was exactly why they had done it. Ylisstol wouldn't see the attack coming until it was too late. Cordelia sighed. Reinforcements might not be coming. They were on their own.

"Captain, news." It was one of her sisters, reporting in. "I managed to get a good view of our surroundings before I was forced to land." The captain, an experienced knight by the name of Thaneta, looked up.

"Where's the rest of your group?" she asked, but the look on her face told Cordelia that she already knew the answer.

"They…didn't make it. We needed to get to you." Cordelia grimaced. Now there were seven.

"I'm sorry. What was the report?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid. The wyverns have us surrounded, and our fears have been confirmed. A massive Plegian army is approaching from the west. It's entirely possible that King Gangrel is at its head. They'll be here soon. Once they arrive, I wouldn't favor our chances of escaping."

Thaneta slumped slightly. Her eyes shut. When she spoke, her tone was one of grim determination.

"Sisters, I do not believe that I will live to see another day here. I will not lie to you. The enemy we face is far too numerous to fight and far too agile to escape. We face a losing battle." There was no reaction from the knights gathered around her. Some blinked back tears and others barely disguised expressions of fear, but they all tried to seem as calm as they could. No one was going to let her sisters down. Thaneta looked up at the knights surrounding her.

"We may yet succeed, however. It is our responsibility, our duty, to warn Ylisstol of its impending invasion. The Exalt and the nation are depending on us." Cordelia secretly added another name to the list: Prince Chrom, the man who she had admired from a distance for ever so long. It seemed like she never would get the chance to talk to him. The captain continued to speak. "I am afraid I must ask you all to make the ultimate sacrifice, both for your country, and for one of your sisters. For if a single knight here can escape to warn the capital, we will have succeeded. Our nation will live on, and we will live on through the bravery and conduct of the one who warns them."

Cordelia nodded. She hadn't wanted it to end like this, but if it meant saving her country, she was prepared to lay down her life. They all were. They had sworn their lives to the nation and to Exalt Emmeryn, and they would not let either fall. Cordelia made to stand up, but stopped when she noticed that everyone had turned to her. Thaneta spoke.

"Cordelia, you are young, but you have great potential. I believe I speak for everyone when I say that you would be the best choice for this mission. You alone have the skill to make it past the enemy, and I know that you will bring honor to the Pegasus Knights. We all do. I am sorry, but I must ask you to leave us behind. We will clear a path for you." Cordelia could only stare.

"No! Captain, you ask me to abandon you all! I cannot do that. We may still make it out of this alive! You say I have great potential, let me use it against our enemies! Bid someone else go, or come with me, but do not ask me to leave you!"

"There is no other way, Cordelia. You must know that." Thaneta's voice was distant, but kind. "I ask you to save yourself, and in doing so save the country that you love. We are all prepared to do what we must." She approached Cordelia, her eyes full of sorrow. "I know that this is hard, but you must trust me when I tell you that everything will be alright, even when we are gone. If anyone can make it through the storm that is to come, it is you. You have a long and promising life ahead of you. I cannot ask you to-"

"Captain! An intruder!" It was another pegasus knight, sprinting up the stairs. She had been guarding the gates. "We couldn't stop him, he's-"

A silhouette appeared in the doorway behind the knight, and quickly resolved into the form of a man, a long-hafted axe in his hand. Blood streaked his armor and weapon. He took one slow step into the room, and then another. Cordelia drew her lance, and many of her sisters did the same. The warrior then proceeded to stumble to the side, using his hand to prop himself up against the door frame. His breathing was heavy, but he nevertheless turned to the knights, a weak grin on his face, and spoke.

"I heard that you had a wyvern problem?" His voice carried an accent that Cordelia did not recognize, but was certainly not native to one of the surrounding countries. He also sounded like he'd just run all the way here from the capital, his breathing was so heavy. "Well, I'm your exterminator…wait, no, that sounded better in my head… I mean, that, uh, I'm your… I'm exhausted. There were far too many wyverns out there." The look on Thaneta's face was strange, like she had seen something that she couldn't quite understand, and was still trying to process the absurdity before her. Cordelia shared this feeling.

"You…you're…who are you?"

"Ah, pardon me, where are my manners?" Cordelia noticed that he was catching his breath. "My name is Shione, and I am here to help you with the horde of wyvern riders outside." Thaneta had finally decided on an expression, and it was one of skepticism.

"Some stranger has decided to help us fight against the Plegian army, just as we need help the most? I'm not normally the sort to look unkindly at assistance, but this seems all too convenient. You'll have to excuse my skepticism, but I'd prefer not to be stabbed in the back here." The man, Shione, didn't seem offended by her accusations, waving them off.

"All too reasonable. Unfortunately, I have nothing to prove myself to you beyond my honest intentions. Give me a chance, and I hope you will find that they are enough."

"Even if I were to trust you, what could one more soldier do against an army of wyvern riders? Especially when that soldier seems to be stuck on the ground?"

"Well, I did manage to make the skies significantly friendlier. I may be stuck on the ground for now, but not _all_ of this blood is mine. You may find that even though there are still too many wyverns to be comfortable with, you probably could escape with minimal resistance. I can help make that happen."

"Are you telling me you've managed to fight off part of the same enemy force which has killed far too many of our sisters? A single man without any way to reach flying wyverns, let alone fight them effectively?"

"I mean no disrespect, ma'am, but being on the ground actually can be an advantage. The thing about Plegians is that they aren't too disciplined, and so your strategies which are meant for an organized enemy don't work on them. Meanwhile, they've prepared to fight your knights personally, and so they have the upper hand. But when you disregard the rule book and try something unexpected on _them_, for example, engaging enemy airborne units with a single grounded fighter, then suddenly the tables are turned and they're the ones trying to scramble to figure out what _you're_ doing. You can take advantage of their general lack of discipline to wreak havoc on their forces." At this, Shione slumped over. "Now, I'm not a combat or tactical genius, and that wasn't very easy. I'm lucky that I didn't attract the main enemy force. I mentioned that some of this blood wasn't mine? Well, some of it is, and I'm really starting to feel faint. Do you, by any chance, have a healer?"

Cordelia couldn't believe her ears. He'd been wounded the entire time, but to hear him speak, you'd think all he had was a scratch. The expression on her captain's face was unreadable as she looked over to one of her knights, an experienced fighter and even better healer.

"Save his life, please. I need him alive to figure out if he's mad, brilliant, or just incredibly lucky." The knight drew out a staff and ran over to Shione, who was now sitting on the floor. As she set to work, Thaneta approached and continued. "As for you, I still don't know what I should do with you. I don't know enough to make any sort of decision yet. So I'm going to ask a few questions. If you truly want to help us, then you shouldn't mind answering them." Shione nodded.

"First of all, why are you here? It isn't exactly a standard thing for people to barge in unannounced into the middle of a battle. Not only that, but you have an innate knowledge of the enemy's tactics and the skill to put that knowledge to use against a superior force. You'll forgive me for being somewhat suspicious, but this all seems too convenient to be true."

"I'm here, Captain, because I want to help you and your people," Shione said. "I have faith in the Exalt, but I know that Ylisse won't survive this war without some help. I am prepared to provide that help. It is with that in mind that I attacked the enemy forces, in hopes of allowing you all to break through their lines and retreat to the capital. Speaking of which, if you want to live to fight another day, I would recommend we go soon. I scared a few off, but the Plegians aren't going to wait much longer before they attack."

"That's exactly what worries me, though," Thaneta countered. "We didn't know that this war had even begun until the attack started. And yet, you somehow not only knew about it, but had enough time to decide which side you wanted to take and then race a Plegain army here, a base in the middle of nowhere. And you haven't fooled me. You say you traveled here on foot, but that armor seems more suited for flying. It seems to me that you're a deserter, or worse, a spy. For all we know, you might be leading us into a trap." Shione looked down, seemingly collapsing in on himself.

"Yes, well, you see, I didn't actually come here because you were under attack," Shione responded. "I had no idea this attack was coming, and I just happened to stumble into it at the right time. As for my method of travel and my armor, well, that's why I am here. I was hoping to convince you to let me borrow a mount." Thaneta blinked.

"This is a base for the Ylissean Pegasus knights. If you were looking for a horse, there are stables in much nicer parts of the country. If you wanted a wyvern, I'd recommend looking outside."

"I believe you misunderstand me. I knew exactly what was here," Shione looked up. "Well, except for the Plegians, but that's not my point. I have trained to ride pegasi, and I was hoping I could be charming enough to convince you to allow me the use of one. I'm getting the feeling that it isn't working." There was a brief moment of silence in the room before one of the knights opened her mouth. Shione continued, cutting her off.

"Now, I know what you're thinking, so don't bother. I've heard it a thousand times before. Pegasus knights are usually female, so what am I doing riding a pegasus?" In fact, that had been exactly what Cordelia had been about to ask. There were some old stories, but she had never known of a male pegasus knight. Unless this man was telling the truth. "But I was raised around pegasi and I can fly with them as well as any knight. You ask how you can trust me? Let that be it. Let me borrow a pegasus, at least until we get out of this fight, and I'll prove myself."

Thaneta stopped for a moment, apparently considering the idea. Cordelia couldn't help but wonder about their strange visitor, now standing up and looking much healthier. His story was strange, but it had an undeniable ring of truth to it. He made too much sense to be lying. But there was no denying the convenience of his arrival. Cordelia didn't think he was a traitor or spy, but something else had to be at work here. Maybe someone was looking out for them after all, perhaps even Naga herself. Cordelia couldn't know for sure, but if her choices were between leaving her sisters to die and walking into a possible trap, she'd gladly take the latter.

"I'm not sure how, but you seem like our best chance right now, stranger," Thaneta spoke. "I'll give you the chance to prove yourself. We wouldn't normally have a pegasus without a rider, but this fight has been costly. More than one mount has returned to our stables without a rider. If you can calm one enough to ride it, we'll see about following you out of here. Cordelia, I want you to watch him. And if things don't go according to plan…you know what you need to do."

* * *

"So, the Grimleal are here, in the capital?"

"Yes, and I want to know why," Cainne responed.

"So why do you need me?" Martin asked. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to help, but it sounded like you had something else in mind beyond the 'hit stuff' plan that we usually follow."

"May I remind you that those are usually your plans?" Cainne retorted. "But as for what I want to do, it's relatively simple, if risky. We incapacitated one of their agents, and he was kind enough to provide us with his uniform, albeit unwillingly." Martin caught on.

"You want to use it to sneak into their forces, don't you?"

"Yes. Do you see a problem with that?"

"No, it's smart," Martin responded. "You said they were trying to get into the castle? Well, when someone's trying to infiltrate, the last thing they'll expect is to be infiltrated themselves. Of course, they'll be extra vigilant, but I'm sure we can manage. Just one question: who's wearing the tacky outfit?" Cainne stared at him. He was worried he already knew the answer.

"Beyond the obvious fact that the missing henchman is a man," Lyta answered, in case Martin wasn't sure, "Cainne couldn't pull off this guy's headgear with her ears. Taguel are a little too conspicuous, and it was enough of a chore finding something that could hide those things without adding a hat on top of it. She'll be guarding our captive here at the bar, and she'll let us know if they come back. I'm going to be at the castle, but I don't need a robe like that to hide myself. Since Shione is…well, somewhere…that just leaves you." Martin cringed.

"Great, I have to wear that outfit?"

"If you don't want to be immediately spotted, yes."

"You can probably wear it with your armor underneath, if it's a safety issue." Cainne chimed in.

"I'm just worried about wearing a skull on my head," Martin said as he walked over to look at his disguise.

"Those can't possibly be real, even if they are dark mages," Lyta responded. "Right?" Martin picked the thing in question up, and sniffed. The look on his face was answer enough.

"Cainne, if you don't mind me asking, what's our stake in all of this?" Martin asked. "Ylisse and Plegia are at war, sure, but why are we getting involved?"

"These men are connected to the ones who captured Aiden. I'm hoping that they might have some sort of lead that we can use. But more importantly, these people can't have anything good planned for the civilians in the city. I'm not going to sit around while innocents get hurt. You have a problem with that?"

"No," Martin responded. "Just checking that my commander has her head on straight. Good to see that she does. Lyta, come on. We've got a cult to infiltrate."

* * *

"There she is," Cordelia spoke as they arrived in the stables. "Anem. She lost her rider on the first attack. She was a…friend of mine. It was all we could do to get the pegasus back here. Anem has been frantic ever since." Shione looked over to her, a strange look in his eye.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Too many have died here already. I'll do my best to make sure no one else does again." It sounded like there was something else that he wanted to add, but he remained silent.

"Thaneta's deployed a few knights to keep the enemy off guard. We can't stop their main force, but we've been able to use the gaps in their lines to keep them from organizing a full assault. It seems like you were telling the truth. If you can calm Anem, you'll have Thaneta's trust." Forming a bond with an animal was a rite of passage for many pegasus knights. It showed that a recruit was able to care for her mount in both physical and mental capacities, and it served as a signal that she was finally able to start flight training. If Shione truly wanted to prove that he had been trained to ride pegasi, forming a connection with one was the best way. And while it wasn't unheard of for a pegasus to allow a new rider after a previous one had fallen, it would not make things easier for Shione.

"Alright, then. Give me a moment." Shione approached the stall, while Cordelia stood back and watched. If things went wrong, she'd have to intervene. In truth, she was also very interested in what was about to happen. If Shione succeeded, that would mean that he would be the first male pegasus knight that Cordelia could think of. It was a strange prospect.

Very slowly, Shione approached the gate. He eased it open, and crept inside. Anem eyed him warily, her nostrils flaring. He started to extend a hand towards the pegasus. Incensed, she reared up, hooves flailing in the air. But Shione didn't move an inch. Instead, he waited, stock still, as the pegasus settled back down.

"Hey there. I won't hurt you, I promise." The way he spoke to Anem was as if he were addressing a peer rather than an animal. It was a promising sign. "I get what you're going through. You've lost someone very dear to you, and it hurts. I'm sorry." As he spoke, he continued to slowly reach for the pegasus. Her eyes focused on his hand, wide and nervous. "But shutting everyone else out isn't the solution. The people who hurt you, who hurt your rider, are still out there, and they mean to hurt everyone else, too. But you can help. _We_ can help. We can go out there and stop them. All I need is for you to calm down." He finished, his hand mere inches from the pegasus' muzzle. Shione looked directly at Anem.

"Will you help me?" With that, he placed his palm on the pegasus. It closed its eyes, but did not move. Shione smirked. "Good to hear it." Cordelia started to clap.

"Good job, stranger. I'm impressed." And she was. He'd lived up to his story. As to where he could have possibly gotten training as a pegasus knight, Cordelia had no idea, and she resolved to ask later. Right now, they had more pressing issues.

"Cordelia! What's the status with the newcomer?" Thaneta walked into the stable, full of nervous energy. "If we're going, we need to do it soon. The Plegain army is almost he-." She stopped as soon as she saw Shione and Anem. When she regained her composure, she had a small grin. "Good job, stranger. Or should I say recruit? I'll be honest, I was halfway expecting you to wind up a stain on the wall, but you've surprised me. Fortunately, I happen to like this surprise. Both of you, mount up. We're leaving the tower."

Within minutes, they were near the tower's gates. At their sides were the remaining knights and pegasi in the garrison, including the returning few that had been charged with harassing the enemy. A few clapped or cheered when they saw the newest recruit, who merely nodded in appreciation. He was incredibly happy right now, but he had to focus on the fight to come. Thaneta approached the gate, ahead of them all.

"Knights! Our newest member was kind enough to clear us a path through the enemy lines before he arrived, and I plan to take it. We will head out there, we will face any enemy we find in our way, and we will win." Shione noted that her tone was very different than when she had spoken just minutes prior. "Our plan is to head straight to the capital. If it can be helped, we will not stop for anything, not even if the enemy's top flyers are nipping at our heels, because there is no way that a bunch of winged lizards could outfly Ylisstol's elite. Knights, mount up and get ready to fly!"

Cordelia hooked one foot into a stirrup and lifted herself onto her mount's back. Shione followed suit, and noted as everyone else did the same. Thaneta hit the gate's mechanism, and they creaked open. The captain was the first out, taking to the sky almost immediately. Everyone followed as close as they could, trying to prevent a possibly lethal bottleneck at the gate. It was large, but it hadn't been meant for eight knights all at once.

Shione spurred Anem on and through the gate. It seemed like Thaneta's skirmishers had done well, as there was no opposition to be seen directly outside. Anem picked up speed, and took to the sky with a quick leap. For a moment, all Shione could do was marvel as the ground below dropped away and the sky before him opened up. This was familiar. This was his home.

There was a sudden shriek, and something plummeted to the ground below. Shione watched as it passed, able to make out the unmoving form of a wyvern as it fell. It seemed that combat had started. Shione grinned.

It was good to be back.

He saw the conflict, where a small group of wyverns had engaged the leading knights. They were handling themselves well, but it always helped to be sure. Shion spurred Anem on and up, heading directly for the conflict.

In the air, wyverns used their teeth and claws to grapple with the enemy, bringing them in close so that the rider could strike at the rider or mount at their discression. The pegasi, with no such natural defenses, had to rely on their agility and the rider's skill with the lance to keep the wyverns at a distance. The Plegians had tried to prepare for this, bringing long axes which they hoped to catch the enemy, bringing them in close for the killing blow. It was to one's great surprise, then, when a pegasus charged directly at him. He barely had time to react when the rider brought their own axe to bear, sweeping it into the rider's chest and sweeping him out of his saddle. He was already dead when he hit the ground.

Shione turned in his saddle, checking around him for more. Like he had told Thaneta before, it was always a good idea to do the opposite of what the Plegians thought you were going to do. It was almost too late when he saw the second rider, flying right at him from behind. He pulled Anem into a dive, narrowly avoiding the wyvern's claws. Before it could turn around, a javelin struck its rider, knocking both out of the fight. Cordelia flew up next to him, another javelin at the ready.

"You should really be more careful, you know! I only have so many lances, of these and I'd rather not waste them all saving our newest trainee!" She shouted over the wind. Shione raised his hands in a gesture of mock apology.

"I could have gotten him! I'll never break recruit if you keep doing that!"

"You'll never break recruit sitting here, either!" Cordelia shot back.

"Yeah, yeah…" Shione trailed off, before sighting the main body of the force. "Let's not keep everyone else waiting! In fact, I'd like to see you try and keep up!" With that, he spurred Anem forward, quickly leaving the surprised Cordelia behind. Looking back, he could see her shake her head before following.

* * *

"You're late, mage," the sorcerer spat out, cold disappointment apparent in his tone. "In the future, I expect better."

"Sorry, sir," Martin stammered out. "I got caught up in avoiding a few watchmen." It was a believable enough excuse: night was falling, and Martin actually had to avoid a few guards while sneaking into the brush around the castle outskirts. In this getup, the guards wouldn't have known that the intruder was actually on their side.

Hopefully, that meant that the sorcerer currently scolding him wouldn't know it, either. So far, it seemed to be working. The sorcerer paused a moment, as if pondering something.

"Something about tonight doesn't seem…correct. Our master has assured us that we are fated to succeed, but prudence never hurts." With this, the sorcerer pointed to Martin and another of the nearest Grimleal agents gathering around him. "I want you two to go along with or agents and ensure that they are able to finish their task." He gestured into the distance, where another group of Grimleal had clustered, these ones dressed in the garb of thieves and assassins.

Martin and the other Grimleal, a soldier, approached the group. Two assassins stood up, and closed the distance. One shook hands with the soldier, while another extended his arm towards Martin. Martin grasped his hand, and shook. Best not to look too suspicious.

"So you're being assigned to help us?" the one fathest from Martin asked. "We can do this ourselves." The one closer to Martin turned to his comrade.

"We just follow orders, alright?" He turned back to Martin and the soldier. "As long as you two can stay quiet, you're welcome to follow along. Our job is too important to screw up." With that, he started to move. Martin and the soldier followed.

The next few minutes consisted of the four picking through foliage and scrub, Martin being forced to blindly follow the two rogues, unsure of his location because of the thick brush. Martin was careful not to make a sound. It wouldn't be much use to alert anyone to their location. Not now, at least.

Every now and then, he looked up, into the branches of the trees above. The slight movement of a shadow or the wave of a piece of fabric were the only indication of Lyta's presence, and Martin was sure that she was allowing him to see her. From above, Lyta had a much better view of the situation, but there was no way for her to let him know what was occurring. Martin soldiered ahead, confident that Lyta had him covered.

Eventually they halted at a signal from the lead rogue, the grumpier one. Martin stood still, and waited. Eventually, he heard something. It sounded like conversation.

"…It must have been so hard…" The speaker trailed off. Martin's eyes widened. He knew that voice.

"I cannot claim to know how she does it, Robin." Right, Martin was correct. But the one speaking now, was that… "I could never greet such hostility with warmth and patience. While our people mocked and vilified her, she reached out and healed them. She brought soldiers home to their families. She ended the war. And when Ylisse's spirit was mended and people forgave her?" That word, forgave, was spoken as if it were a curse, a facsimile of the true word's meaning. "She never resented them for it. She represents the best of the halidom-the part most worth protecting. She _is_ peace. But some men would take advantage of that. Men like King Gangrel. The day he understands peace will be the day death gives it to him…so perhaps I must be death's agent. Emmeryn would never order him killed, nor would I wish her to." A low whistle from the soldier, quickly cut off, was the only signal that anyone else had heard. The speaker seemed to be pouring his heart out, confessing some impossible secret. But Martin knew the man who spoke meant every word.

"Well spoken, sir." Oh no. That voice. Martin suddenly had a terrible idea that he knew _exactly _where and when he was, and more importantly what he was doing.

"Marth…" Or more accurately, the person using the long-dead king's name. A minor difference, really.

"Good evening to you."

"How did you get in here?" Came the question that Martin was also silently asking, although out of curiosity rather than suspicion.

"The cleft in the castle wall, behind the maple grove." Right, the cleft they'd just also used, and the maple grove they were currently hiding in. It seemed that timing had prevented a very awkward situation.

"There, but how would you…? Ugh…" That groan was the sound of a man giving up his attempts at reason. Martin knew it well.

"You know the place, Chrom?" Robin had just confirmed what Martin already knew. The speaker was Chrom, crown prince of Ylisse.

"Yes. I bashed in part of the wall while training with the Shepherds. It's only a small hole, and I'd thought it well concealed, but…" That was what happened when an invincible and incredibly sharp weapon met stone wall, it seemed. And no, Martin noted, the cleft was _not_ well concealed.

"Your secret is safe with me. I came only to warn you."

"Warn us?"

"The Exalt's life is in danger." That little comment drew a reaction from the rest of his group, Martin noted. Suddenly, the assassins were on edge. Martin himself shifted closer to get a good look at the clearing.

"What, Emmeryn? That's absurd. She's guarded at all hours," Chrom said. Martin could now make out his blue-haired head. It was rather distinctive, but apparently also quite oblivious. Someone mysteriously appears with a warning, you should listen. At the very least, you'd catch a crazy person delivering strange warnings. The person in question, Marth, seemed to be struggling over a decision, but eventually spoke.

"What if… what if I told you I have seen the future? Would you believe me?" Martin would, but he'd seen stranger. "A future where Emmeryn was killed. Here. Tonight." Chrom, however, was understandably baffled.

"Seen the future? Have you lost your wits?"

"Yes, I expected you wouldn't believe me. So allow me to prove it!" Martin grimaced. Things were about to get interesting. Accordingly, Marth and Chrom drew their weapons. Unseen, the assassins did the same. Marth turned to Chrom.

"I'm about to save your life," Marth said, before staring directly at the second assassin, still hidden in the bushes. "From him!"

The lead assassin stared, wide-eyed. The second assassin, panicking, took off running directly at Chrom, apparently still trying to complete the mission despite having his cover blown. Marth's weapon flew into the air as its wielder intercepted the assassin, catching the blade as it came down and putting it to deadly effect. The assassin fell, dead.

"I trust this proof will suffice?" From the looks on Robin and Chrom's faces, it would. Chrom opened his mouth, croaking out a word.

"…yeah." Marth had turned to them, now. Martin's 'friend' took a chance.

The lead assassin motioned, and the soldier charged forward. Marth, surprised, barely turned around in time. The soldier moved forward and lunged, his prey trying to dodge. Marth's foot hit the fallen assassin's blade, causing the swordfighter to slip. The soldier's lance didn't hit Marth hard, but it did knock the characteristic mask mask loose. It fell to the ground and was crushed by an errant footstep.

Fortunately for Marth, others were present. Chrom quickly returned the favor he owed Marth, cutting down the soldier, before turning to the now unmasked figure, whose long hair gleamed in the moonlight. Chrom noticed.

"Wait, you're… you're a woman?" Marth nodded slowly. Yes, the one who looked like a woman and spoke like a woman, albeit with something caught in her throat, was indeed a woman.

And quite the actress, too," she responded. Well, she was good enough to fool Robin and Chrom, at least. Martin was tapped on the back by the lead assassin, still alive, who motioned towards the group. His meaning was clear: strike them together, while they're unaware. "Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out until-" Marth was cut off as the final assassin rose up. Martin moved, too, but not as the assassin expected.

The rogue was knocked over by the false Grimleal, his sword knocked from his grip. Nonetheless, he fought hard, fighting back against Martin with fists and elbows. Martin responde in kind, unable to draw a weapon. Eventually, he pushed himself off the assassin, quickly getting up. Before the assassin could recover, an arrow sprouted from his neck.

"Looks like you were right to not trust me, buddy. Now I've-" Martin stopped, acutely aware of the blade at his throat, and the angry woman wielding it.

* * *

"Who are you? She asked.

Her mind reeled with a hundred different possibilities, all stranger than the last. She'd come here to save Chrom and Emmeryn from the death that she knew would come this night, but she'd been caught off guard by something, or someone, unexpected. Someone who had saved her life, who seemingly shared her immediate goal. How was this possible?

"Who are you?" She repeated, slowly. She wouldn't ask again. The man in the Grimleal robe- was he even a Grimleal? - grinned nervously at her.

"My name's Martin. I'm a friend. Really. Can we put down the big, sharp object?"

"Explain yourself! I'm not so trusting of someone wearing the enemy's uniform." The man, Martin, looked behind her.

"Well, he's wearing almost the exact same thing I am. Why doesn't he have to explain himself?" She looked behind her and saw what he was talking about. The person next to Chrom, the tactician, was wearing a coat that was very similar to that of the agent she was questioning. Robin was able to answer the question himself, however.

"I don't know where this came from, but I'm no member of the Grimleal. I'm the tactician for the Shepherds, as Chrom can tell you."

"And he didn't show up with three others to try and kill anyone," She finished. Martin shrugged.

"Well, four others, actually. My friend in the tree killed the last assassin, and had the chance to take you all out this entire time. Fortunately, she's a lot nicer than these rogues here. And we're no Grimleal, either," Martin finished. She looked up to the tree line, only to see a hooded figure descend out onto the ground.

A weight pressed down on her sword arm. She turned to see a familiar face staring back at her, eyes kind but determined.

"Let him go," Chrom said. "I don't think either of them mean to harm us. Besides, you said yourself we have more to worry about right now." She dropped her arm. There was no way she could explain her suspicions or voice her concerns, not without exposing herself and her origins.

"Well, thank you, sir," Martin said, looking to Chrom. "Unfortunately, I think Marth is correct, at least in her warning. Those three weren't the only ones that-" The sound of an explosion at the other side of the castle cut him off. Everyone turned.

"The Exalt!" Marth shouted. "We have to help her!" With that, everyone in the garden made for the palace, even the two newcomers.

* * *

The party slowed as they eventually reached the Exalt's chambers. Martin turned to Robin.

"Hey, Robin," he said. "You're the tactician here, right? Well, do you mind if we tag along for now?" Robin shrugged.

"I suppose I don't. If Marth is right, we're going to need all the help we can get, and you don't seem like our enemies. I'd watch out, though. Judging by Marth's reaction, not everyone will be so welcoming." He was right, it seemed. Martin hadn't known what to expect when he jumped out of the bushes and declared his allegiance, but open hostility hadn't been his first thought. Given the circumstances, though, and he couldn't fault Marth. In time, he hoped she realized they were on the same side.

"Emm!" Chrom called out. Sure enough, the Exalt had appeared from her inner chambers, an expression of worry on her face. She was flanked by two pegasus knights, one of whom wore the gold armor of a captain. Behind her strode a well-armed and ornately armored knight, silvered lance at the ready.

"Chrom!" Emmeryn exclaimed. "Take Lissa and flee while you still have time!" Chrom shook his head.

"No, we're not leaving you! Just stay where it's safe!"

"Agreed," Martin stated. "We worked too hard trying to mess up these guys' plans to give in now." Lyta remained silent, though whether she was nervous or merely focused on the mission, Martin couldn't tell.

"The assassins should scatter if we can defeat their leader," Robin said, obviously forming some sort of plan.

"Right," Martin agreed. "Cut off the beast's head, and the rest will follow. But do we have any idea who that is?" He had his own suspicions, but since he hadn't met the individual in question, he couldn't be sure. Robin shook his head. Guess they'd just have to figure it out as they went.

Something caught Martin's attention, a strange light in the corner of his eye.

"Falchion is gleaming…" Marth said, something akin to wonder in her voice.

"Neat sword," Martin said. "Does it always do…that?"

"I've never seen the like before," Chrom stated. "What's wrong?"

"It's…not of your concern," Marth responded.

"Seems like nothing ever is with you," Chrom stated, a thin smile on his lips.

"My apologies," Marth returned, but said no more.

"Just stay by the door," Chrom ordered. "We'll handle the killers. The same goes for you two."

"With all due respect," Martin shot back, "I think that's where Marth _least _wants us to be. We can handle ourselves in a fight, and I promise I'll be good."

"Fine. This is your chance to prove your intentions." Chrom readied his blade, but Emmeryn wasn't done speaking.

"Chrom, please! Flee while you still can! You each have but one life, and I do not wish it weighed against mine!" Martin turned to her.

"Appologies, ma'am, but your life is pretty important. These guys won't be a problem, I assure you."

The group took up loose defensive positions around the entrance to the Exalt's chambers, and Robin started to give out orders. Marth and the pegasus knights would stay here while Chrom and Robin would head out through the western doorway. Martin and Lyta would follow the knight, Frederick, through the southern entrance. They'd clear any enemies in their paths, find the enemy leader, and flank him. Any stragglers left behind would be taken care of by Marth and the knights.

Before they could split up, however, movement caught Martin's eye. A strange figure was sneaking through the castle, just barely in his line of sight. It was a woman, seemingly unarmed. Martin knew better, though. The strange leather armor and the oversized ears marked her as a serious fighter. He wasn't the only one to notice the newcomer.

"Another assassin?" Chrom inquired.

"Hold!" came the order from Marth. "Panne is not your enemy." Chrom turned back to face her.

"You know her?"

"I know…of her. And I knew she would come here tonight." Martin knew of her, as well, but he couldn't say anything without being incredibly suspicious. He knew Marth was facing the same dilemma when she spoke, but someone had to speak for the newcomer. Without knowing if anyone else would know the Taguel, she'd taken the chance.

"Quite the prophet, aren't you?" Chrom responded. Luckily, he sounded more amused than annoyed.

"As you say," Marth said. Martin had to give her credit, she was covering herself very well. "And I swear to you, Panne is an ally." Duly noted, thought Martin. But would the others buy it?

"…good enough for me," Chrom answered after some deliberation. So far, he seemed far too trusting for his own good. Luckily for the prince, it was paying off. "All right, Shepherds…and other assorted fighters… for now, we leave this Panne character be." Well, at least Caine wasn't here. That would be awkward.

"Is that wise, milord?" questioned Frederick. Martin almost expected as much. He'd been throwing sideways glances at Martin and Lyta the entire time. And they had to work together.

"Marth has earned our trust. She enjoys her secrets, I know…like her gender, for one. But she's also saved our lives." Martin opened his mouth, but Chrom cut him off. "_Twice._ And that's enough for me." Duly noted. Chrom trusted those who saved his life twice at least. Martin would just have to get working on that.

"Chrom… thank you." Marth added, the relief in her voice palpable.

"Now to the matter at hand," Chrom responded, redirecting the conversation, "driving these scoundrels from our castle!" Martin couldn't agree more. He readied his tome, but then Frederick interrupted.

"Milord! Another stranger, headed this way!" Frederick leveled his lance, but Martin hastily drove its point down.

"Hold! I recognize her! Please don't skewer my friend!" Frederick backed off, luckily. Cainne then proceeded into the room, skidding to a halt. She looked exhausted.

"Cainne…what a _fantastic _surprise…" Martin greeted her, all too aware of the situation he was suddenly in. Cainne looked up.

"Martin. Lyta," Cainne responded, and then swept her gaze across the room, comprehension slowly dawning. "And some new friends…uh, hi. I work with these two." She spoke, addressing the crowd before her.

"Wait, I thought you were watching our guest?" Lyta asked. Canine turned to her.

"I was, but a few of his friends found out and attacked. They've rejoined the main group by now, and they're pretty angry. That coat isn't fooling anyone anymore. I ran here as fast as I could to warn you. Besides, I didn't want to miss out on the fun." Martin grimaced.

"Well, that plan could only last so long anyway." Martin reached up and tossed the skull headdress aside. "I'm keeping the coat though. I like it." He turned to face the Shepherds.

"Wait, wasn't she just…" Robin trailed off, motioning in the direction of the western entrance.

"No, that was Panne," Marth answered through gritted teeth. "I don't know who this is, but if our new allies know her, I welcome her assistance." Martin could tell that she was struggling to suppress the desire to say more which couldn't be said around present company. Or perhaps, judging from the look on her face, in any form of polite company at all. He'd have some explaining to do after this was over. There was a short period of silence, and then Cainne drew her lance.

"So…assassins?" She asked. Robin nodded.

"Alright, Cainne, you're with Chrom and me. Let's get to work."

* * *

Chrom parried another blow from the assassin, driving the man's blade to the ground. Robin seized the opportunity, his own blade slipping past the assassin's defenses to end him. Cainne ended her own opponent with a solid blow to the head from her lance. Strange appearance aside, she was a good fighter. Chrom moved forward, his allies close behind. He was stopped, however, by a strange cracking sound. He circled around a pillar to find a thief busy using his blade to chip away at a gem lodged in the stonework, seemingly oblivious to the world as he mumbled to himself. Chrom cleared his throat.

"Drop your weapon, or die where you stand!" He called out. The theif scrambled backward, blade discarded.

"Easy there, blueblood," he responded, his tone calm. "I'm not here to hurt anyone."

"Yet you run with a band of assassins?" Chrom asked, the confusion apparent in his face.

"Believe it or not, just trying to make a living," came the thief's reply. "I'm a theif, see? Bust open doors. Crack into chests…that sort of thing. This lot said they wanted to break into some type of vault. Nobody said anything about murder. I'd just as soon sit this one out." Chrom looked back at his allies, who merely shrugged, apparently as baffled as he was.

"Well...perhaps you'd be willing to prove your good intentions? We need all the help we can get to save the Exalt's life. You appear capable, and we could use any information you have on our foes…our last turncoat wasn't exactly informed."

"Oh, right- _those_ good intentions," the thief responded. "Fine then, I'll prove my sincerity…if you sweeten the deal." Chrom marveled at the irony of the statement, but if he'd trusted the last few strangers to appear with the assassins, what was one more?"

"You want gold? Fine, scoundrel." Chrom reached for his purse, accidentally knocking another satchel to the floor in the process. The thief noticed.

"Looks like you dropped something. What's in the satchel?"

"Nothing," Chrom responded, waving the question way. "Candies from my sister. I'm sure you-" He was cut off by a sudden outburst from the thief.

"Candies? As in, _sugar_ candies?" Chrom was somewhat taken aback. Nevertheless, he nodded.

"Yes, I assumed they'd be sweet. But-" He couldn't finish, as the thief once again cut him off.

"IT'S A DEAL!" The thief exclaimed. Chrom was stunned. Somewhere behind him, Robin was stifling a chuckle.

"You'll risk your life for us if I give you…a bag of candy?"

"I said sweeten the deal, didn't I?" the theif returned, as if it were obvious. "Don't get me wrong, I'll take the gold too. Later. Unless you've got more of these." He said, shaking the satchel. "…Have you got more of these?" Chrom just stared.

"…I'll ask Lissa."

The theif took the bag and walked over to the others. He shook hands with Robin, and then walked over to Cainne.

"Hello, sweetie. Name's Gaius. Who're you?"

"Cainne," was all she said, before looking over to Chrom. Her stare pleaded with him for help.

"I…don't suppose you'd be willing to be paid in candy too, Cainne?" He asked, hoping she'd catch on.

Cainne was momentarily confused, then seemed to get it. "No, of course not! I hate the stuff." Gaius wrinkled his nose in disgust, and backed away, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Chrom turned around and chuckled to himself, then he refocused on the task ahead. That had been an amusing diversion, but he couldn't forget why he was here. Emm was depending on him.

* * *

The lance flashed out, and another assassin fell. Sir Frederick was deadly, with combat abilities that exceeded anyone else Martin had met so far. Seeing no imminent threat, the group lowered their arms. They were in the building's main foyer, where the assassins seemed to be coming from. More accurately, they were coming from the Castle's main entrance, which opened to this building. Panne was nearby, but seemed content to stay away from the group.

"Impressive work, Sir Frederick," Martin said, turning to the knight, "but they're going to keep coming until we find their leader. Any ideas?" The knight stared back at him with some amount of contempt.

"I assumed that the one who'd infiltrated their forces would have some more valuable information, if he were honest about his desire to assist us. Besides, milord has yet to arrive, and Robin was quite clear that we should work together." Before martin could respond, Lyta waved them over.

"Quiet down. I think I found our guy." She pointed, but it wasn't necessary. From here, the leader of the assassins was quite visible, apparently uncaring as to who saw him.

He stood, tall and thin, surrounded by a few of his underlings. His skin was an unhealthy hue of gray, contrasting sharply with the brilliant gold accents on his uniform. Around his head was a strange circlet which ended with a spike near each ear. A disturbing grin rested on his long, narrow face, and a strange, dark tome was clutched in his hand. Martin couldn't shake a strange familiarity about him, and he suspected he knew why.

_That_ was V. That was Validar, or so he thought

"What's the plan?" Lyta asked. "I'm assuming we aren't just going to leave this guy here?"

"I'd rather not face this guy without some help. He's got us outnumbered and I'm not particularly eager to see how strong he is himself, but we can't just sit here and wait for him to come to us" Martin responded. "So I'll go out there and distract him and his lackeys. Sir Frederick, if you and I can keep their focus on us for long enough, then we can draw things out until Chrom and the others get here, and then we can handle them as a group. Failing that, I want you to try and sneak in a few shots at him, Lyta." Lyta nodded, and Frederick surprisingly did the same. Martin guessed he knew there weren't too many other optons.

Lyta took shelter behind the doorway, out of sight of the Grimleal. When Martin and Frederick approached, she'd most likely head for the bushes in the garden, using their cover to approach the enemy unseen. Frederick readied his weapon, and they stepped outside into the night. The sound of blades being drawn filed the air as they approached and the enemy became aware of their presence. Then, the Grimleal leader turned to them, a smirk apparent on his face.

"Well, well… what do we have here?" he asked, with a voice both serenely calm and icily cold. "A traitor, attempting to flee his destiny? Or perhaps a spy, and a poor one at that?"

"The second," Martin responded. "No one who actually worked with you could bear to abandon that marvelous gray pallor of yours." He didn't dare look to see if Lyta was getting into place. He just had to piss off the sorcerer, keep him from noticing his surroundings. By his side, Frederick braced for combat. If the sorcerer's goons jumped them now, things were going to get very messy, very fast.

"The insults of a worm that knows he has no chance," the sorcerer retorted, unfazed. "You fumble to comprehend even this minor event, and yet fail to see the much greater powers at play. A miserable spy, indeed."

"Oh, alright. Would that plan be the one where you use war to throw the world into chaos to facilitate the resurrection of your god?" Martin cast the sorcerer a smirk of his own. Frederick cast a sidelong glance at him. A snarl briefly appeared on the sorcerer's face, but was quickly suppressed.

"It matters not what you think you know," He responded. "You cannot avoid your fate, nor can you alter what has been set in motion tonight."

"Really?" Martin asked. "Because this entire time we've been talking, my allies have been clearing out the castle. They're prepared to stay there all night. I've been buying them time to set up their defensive positions."

"Irrelevant," the sorcerer shot back. We have the castle surrounded, and the Exalt will fall. Her fate is inevitable."

"Well, thank you for the tip regarding the location of your agents," Martin responded. "I'll make sure to let everyone know, once you've been dealt with. If they're anything like the ones from the gardens, it shouldn't be too hard to deal with them." At this, the sorcerer's neutral expression slipped, and was replaced by anger.

"Emmeryn was supposed to be an easy target… you will pay for interfering with my designs. And no amount of your ignorant drivel will save you!" With that, his hands started to glow with a dark energy. Martin looked past him and only saw more assassins. Chrom wasn't here yet, but someone else was. An arrow lanced out from the brush, headed straight for Validar's head. Lyta had made it, and her aim was true. However, Validar's hand almost instamtly shifted towards the projectile. There was a flash, and it disintegrated in midair. He stared at the now exposed archer, and then at Martin.

"It appears I misjudged you…I realize now what an interesting assembly is before me. While some players on this stage belong on another, you should not be on a stage at all! I will take care to rectify that." The assassins drew close while he began to prepare another spell, but Martin's prayers were answered.

Right now, I'm not the one you should be worried about," he said. Four figures rushed in from the opposite end of the courtyard, cutting down an equal number of foes before they could react. Martin noticed that one of them, a thief, hadn't been there when they had split up. Suddenly, the sorcerer, along with his two remaining thieves, found himself surrounded.

"Fantastic timing, milord." Frederick chimed in. Chrom didn't respond, focused instead on the sorcerer before him. The Grimleal was slowly looking over the newcomers, but he stopped when his gaze landed upon Robin.

"Well, well… Ha! Oh, I know you," He said, no trace of fear or anger in his voice. "Submit to me, and perhaps I might honor you with the truth."

"While surrendering to a madman that I barely know seems like an exciting idea," Robin responded, "I think that it would be a poor strategic solution, considering that we have you outnumbered and outflanked. Does this mean you won't surrender?" The ball of magical energy that shot towards Chrom was answer enough, and the fight began. Martin and Frederick found themselves helping Cainne take down one assassin while the other was brought low by the theif and Lyta. The sorcerer fought against Chrom and Robin, smirking even as Falchion cut through his slender form. Only as he lay dying did the smirk fade, his expression very briefly showing fear before disappearing entirely.

* * *

With the battle won, the victors returned to the palace, with Chrom making a beeline for Emmeryn's chambers. When he saw her, alive and unharmed, tension seemed to leave his frame.

"Thank the gods you're safe," he said, barely containing hmself.

"It is you I have to thank, Chrom," She responded, embracing her brother.

"I beg your forgiveness, milord," It was the Pegasus knight, the captain in the golden armor. "I failed in my duty- they should have never made it into the castle in the first place."

"On the bright side, we made it in, too…" Martin said, before Chrom's glare shut him up. The message was clear: He wasn't helping.

"Peace, Phila. You couldn't have known what was coming. Only Marth could, it seems." At this, Frederick's eyes widened, and he turned to Chrom. Before he could speak, Martin nudged into him.

"You're about to say it seems like I know something too, I think," he whispered. "But don't bring it up now. Let me explain later." Frederick seemed uneasy, but eventually nodded. Martin knew that he'd tell Chrom eventually, but all Martin needed was some time to explain himself to them both.

"Marth?" Emmeryn asked, unaware of the short conversation happening a short distance away.

"Yes, I would speak more with…" Chrom trailed off, confused. "Um…Robin, where's Marth?"

"Hmm" the tactician responded. "An excellent question. She was here a moment ago…" Chrom groaned.

"Not again! I'll go after her." With that, he took off, leaving the room somewhat emptier, at least until Panne walked in. She approached Emmeryn, barely taking notice of the others.

"Brave Taguel, there are not words to express my gratitude," Emmeryn greeted her as she approached.

"So you know our true name?" Came her response, somewhat disinterested but also slightly surprised.

"Sorry," Robin chimed in, "but what's a Taguel?" Panne turned to him, her expression unreadable.

"I am a Taguel. The…last Taguel," she added, a great sadness apparent in her tone. Martin cringed inwardly. This wouldn't be good. "We are shape-shifters. Most of your kind call us 'beast' or 'coney' in the midst of their hunt." As she spoke, she grew angrier. "I only helped you because my warren owes…owed Ylisse a debt. Do not think us friends, you and I." Robin looked back at her, confused.

"I don't understand-" Panne cut him off.

"Yes, it's precious little your kind seem to understand. It was man-spawn like you that invaded our warren and slaughtered my people."

"No, I mean…" Robin, evidently caught off guard, could only gesture behind him. Emmeryn, however, had her focus elsewhere.

"What!? Is this true? Who would do such a thing?" Panne only scoffed.

"Do not act shocked. You are all the same. Right down to your base desire to ruin and destroy all you touch-even each other." Emmeryn's expression saddened, though Martin didn't think it was because Panne had rebuked her.

"There is truth to your words, perhaps." She started to say. "I am told that, in Taguel society, everyone is treated as an equal. Mankind could have learned much from your warren. The words may come too late and mean too little, but I am deeply sorry. We have stolen your friends and family and made the world a lesser place." It was a moving speech, one that Martin knew Emmeryn truly meant. He was starting to see what made her a great Exalt.

"Your grace," Phila chimed in, "you had no fault in this!" Martin wondered if, perhaps, that wasn't the correct thing to say right now. He decided it probably wasn't.

"You claim to be blameless, and yet you apologize?" Panne asked, incensed. No, it was not the right thing to say. "Your words are but wind!" Emmeryn sighed.

"I know… but they are all I have." And yet, Martin thought, they were more powerful than the rest of the soldiers in the room, combined. Panne seemed to calm.

"You seem sincere, man-spawn. You feel my pain as your own... I'v never felt that before." Panne responded. "Look at me, see what I am. I will never trust mankind." Martin vowed that he would try to change that. They weren't _all_ bad. "But you…perhaps you truly are not like the others." On that, Martin agreed.

"All I ask is a chance to earn your trust," Emmeryn concluded. Then Robin spoke up, and Martin wished he hadn't.

"Wait, I'm still…what about…" He had joined the rest of the group in examining the newcomers, specifically the one with features that marked her as something other than human. Panne followed Robin's gaze, and Martin was able to see the exact moment her thought process ground to a halt.

"You…" She stammered. "You are... I, you…"

"Are another Taguel?" Cainne finished. "Yes, although I had no knowledge of your tribe, though it pains me to hear of their passing." Panne seemed about to ask a few hundred questions, but finally settled on one.

"How is it that you are here?" She asked. "And how fares your tribe?" Alright, two questions.

"I will admit, I am also curious about you, as well as your companions," Chrom said, as he re-entered the room. "Marth was as well, but would say nothing of it."

"As am I," Frederick added.

"And so am I," Robin finished. Martin looked over to Cainne, and then to Lyta. Both were looking at him.

"Well," he started, thoughts racing. "We're…mercenaries, of a sort. We hail from across the ocean, from Valm and the surrounding lands." Well, it was a partial truth. It just wasn't the whole truth. "We set out here to explore the reports of strange lights and unnatural creatures appearing a few weeks ago, and it seems we were right to do so." That would placate Marth if she heard, explaining why they were here now, when she had never heard of them before. And it was sort of the truth. They had, after all, come here because of the strange lights. The relationship was just a little more direct. "Cainne hails from a tribe across the ocean, as well. The three of us met a long time ago and became peers, and then friends. For what it's worth, I would trust either of them with my life."

"Panne, I know you must have questions, and I will do my best to answer them," added Cainne. "But more pressing issues have arisen, such as the safety of the woman we are both here to protect." Panne thought, and then nodded, though she was far from pleased.

"I agree," said Robin. "We need to figure out what comes next."

"It will take time to investigate how the assassination plot got so far," said Phila. "We have no leads at present."

"It was Plegia!" Chrom exclaimed. "I'm sure of it."

"I don't know enough to be certain," Martin added, "But what I did see suggests that the Prince is correct."

"They'd do anything for the emblem." Chrom finished. "Emm, you can't stay here. Come to Ferox where it's safe."

Emmeryn, however, did not want to leave the people behind. In the end, a compromise was made: The Exalt would be escorted to the Eastern Palace, which was hidden, but still in the country Emmeryn wanted to protect.

"I'll gather the rest of the Shepherds. As for you all who helped us tonight," Chrom said, referring to the thief, whom Martin had learned was Gaius, Panne, and the three interlopers, "If you wish to help, you are welcome to accompany us. The road will be arduous and there will be no shortage of danger, but I cannot say you haven't proven yourselves tonight. We all thank you." Martin grinned. He looked over to his two teammates. There was no question on whether they were going or not, but Lyta did think of something else.

"How do we let Shione know where we are?"

* * *

Emptiness. Unease. Nothing was right, nothing was solid, nothing was_ whole._ He was not whole. He was but a fragment of something greater, aware of its existence but unable to reach it, unable to sense anything of it beyond instinct.

It should not be like this, _he should not be here_.

And yet he was. Cast down like this because of him, because of her, because of them. He, who should have been willing and accepted his role. She, his eternal foe, the one constant that stood against him. They, who dared to defy him, to meddle where they should not.

They would all suffer.

A voice, reaching out through the nothingness. It was a shattered voice, one that spoke clearly but which had no purpose, no faith in anything or anyone. It was the voice of a dead man.

Not that that mattered.

"How!? My purpose is too significant…to be thwarted…here…"

Here, a meaningless term for him, at least as he was now. But to the other, it mattered. The other, who was bound to him, and so came to him in their last moments.

Or had he come to them? It mattered not.

"Validar."

One word, a name. A name he knew, for a being he knew just as well, if not more so. And why not? This being had sacrificed all for him, or for the greater, as had his ancestors, generation after generation.

And yet, not all had, so it seemed. Validar spoke, his voice filled with a strength borne of fear.

"What? Who are you… where did you come from?"

He was a tool, but a useful one. Far too useful to leave here to rust thanks to the actions of a few meddlers. His wounds were survivable, if he had the will. It would be a simple matter to save him, if such could be provided.

"I am the power that compels you. You will not perish here, it is not written. You must live on to author a destiny far greater than you know."

Validar spoke again, a voice even more desperate than before.

"I—impossible! It can't be you! It can't be…"

How ironic, that one who had devoted their lives so thouroughly to him would still fear him so. He spoke truth, though he would not comprehend how. It would be better to assure him otherwise.

"I am the wings of despair. I am the breath of ruin."

He was but a fragment, a piece lost in nothingness.

But he would be enough to bring ruin upon this world.

"I am the fell dragon, Grima."

* * *

_And I am the author. I've been excited to write that part for a while now, so someone please tell me if I did Ok. Speaking of, please, REVIEW. I really value your feedback, but so far there's been nothing._

_The chapter draws to a close, albeit delayed. Sorry about that. I had literally less than a minute to wrap things up before leaving for a trip, but I wanted to post something that could be considered "in time for the holidays." But now, it is complete, so please let me know what you think. As stated above, author's notes in my bio, though they may take some time to post._

_Looking back on chapter one, I realize that some of what I wrote is really awkward. I plan on fixing that, and I'll be posting such there, along with another request for reviews, until it is rewritten._


	6. Chapter 6: Betrayal

_Hello all. Have fun with this next chapter. Sorry it took forever. Please review. _

_You know what I've realized? I forgot something crucial. _

_In case it wasn't clear, I do not own the vast majority of this story, from characters to places to plot points, etc. I don't intend to make a profit from this, just to tell a story about a very interesting franchise. Please don't sue me._

* * *

Combat was never easy on the body or the mind, but Cordelia had never felt quite like this. The physical toll of fighting on the back of a pegasus had combined with the mental and emotional exhaustion of the last few days. She had experienced fear, sorrow, and hope all at once, but now she felt empty. She was exhausted. In an ideal world, they would have had time to rest after escaping from the Plegian siege. Unfortunately, the nature of the war they fought prevented such pleasantries, and she found herself still in the saddle, unbearably close to home and yet unable to reach it.

The knights had fared relatively well in the skirmish to escape, managing to outmaneuver the Plegian forces before they could react properly. They had not been without losses, however, and the eight knights that set out of the tower now numbered seven. Those that survived headed towards Ylisstol, flying nonstop for the half-day of travel. They needed to warn the capital, and even though their escape had thrown part of the Plegian army into disarray, Cordelia had no doubt they would soon be nipping at the knights' heels.

And so they found themselves here at last. Cordelia had hoped for some rest, but fate, it seemed, had other ideas. Ylisstol was in chaos and disarray, with small conflagrations casting smoke into the sky and gates burst open. Thaneta, Cordelia, and Shione had landed in the courtyard while the other knights left to stable their mounts. They had been immediately addressed upon landing by two city guardsmen, one of whom was now speaking to the captain while Shione and Cordelia watched.

"I apologize, captain, but the Exalt is gone," explained the guard, "We were told to inform you of such if you arrived here, but you cannot under any circumstances spread that information around. The Exalt fears for the morale of her people." The captain nodded, somewhat aggravated by this sudden change of plans.

"Can you tell me where she is? I have important information that must reach her. Failing that, I need to speak to Captain Phila." The guard looked at his comrade before answering.

"The Exalt and her family, along with the detachment of Pegasus Knights assigned to her, headed to the Eastern Palace this very morning, after an attempt on her life last night. Since then, we who remain have been dealing with several small skirmishes and instances of sabotage, likely by the same group responsible for the attack, all across the city. Why they would choose now to attack, however, is beyond me." At this, Thaneta cursed. The guard paused a moment, taking a few seconds to consider the knight before him. "I am curious, however, why you are here, Captain. From what I understand, you were stationed by the border." Thaneta shook her head, worry and anger seeping into her voice.

"The border has fallen, guardsman. A Plegian army marches on Ylisstol as we speak, and if what you say is true, they have agents within the city who are trying to weaken our defenses. We have two days." The guard grimaced, coming to terms with the new information. Thaneta continued. "As none of the royal family remains, I seem to be the highest ranking military official present. Therefore, I'm ordering an emergency evacuation. Ylisstol won't stand long against the Plegians, and I will not see our people captured. I don't care how you get them out, but have them pack what they need and prepare for a journey east. With any luck, they needn't be absent from their homes for too long." The guardsman saluted and made to march off, but his comrade spoke up.

"The capital's in danger and you want us to run away? There's no way we're going to comply with that order!" Thaneta turned to him, her anger slowly simmering.

"I lost more than half the troops I commanded to their first attack. We are militarily at a huge disadvantage. If you stay here, you will die, and anything you wanted to defend will fall," she said, her voice intense but not harsh. "The heart of Ylisse has always been with its people and its Exalt, not with this city. I am not suggesting that we run from the Plegians with our tails between our legs, but that we protect what is truly most valuable," she finished. The guard gulped, his earlier defiance gone in the face of her temper.

Thaneta paused for a moment, and then continued on more calmly. "Once that's done, we can withdraw, head east and regroup with the Exalt and any other remaining Ylissean forces for a counterattack. With our full might, we might have a chance to push them back. But we'll need everybody alive, yourself included." The guard, deflated, nodded.

"I'll rally the rest of the men. We'll get everyone out before dawn tomorrow." He ran off, and Thaneta returned to Cordelia and Shione.

"We'll be staying here, to help with the evacuation," she said. "They're going to need a lot of help if they're going to pull this off. But I want you," she said, pointing to Cordelia, "To take our newest recruit and find the Exalt. Warn her of what's coming. And before you protests, don't worry, we'll stay safe. If all goes according to plan, we'll be out of the city before the Plegians can get to it. From there, we'll meet up with you at the Eastern Palace." Cordelia didn't like it, but orders were orders, and Thaneta seemed to be telling the truth when she said that they'd stay safe, and so she nodded. She walked off, intending to prepare for even more traveling. It seemed she wouldn't be getting any rest after all.

The first guardsman, the one who had greeted them when they landed, rushed over to Shione. The newest recruit for the Pegasus Knights had seemed worried, but hadn't responded when Cordelia asked him about it. Now, he turned to the guard's call, confusion replacing worry.

"You must be Shione, correct?" the guard asked, grunting when the recruit nodded. "You were the person we were specifically told to expect, in fact. Didn't know these others were coming, not that they're unwelcome. Some friends of yours told me to inform you that they're traveling east with the Exalt. They said you'd recognize this," the guard added before taking out a small multicolored talisman hanging on a leather cord. Shione took the object before nodding. His confusion faded, quickly replaced by determination. When he turned to Cordelia, new energy was apparent in his motions.

"Come on then," he said, "we have our orders, and I'd rather not leave the Exalt waiting."

* * *

"Damn, I really wish people would write this stuff down," Martin said. Cainne agreed, but there wasn't much else that could be done. They were talking in hypotheticals to pass the time as they marched onward, the rest of the Exalt's convoy stretching out both before and behind them.

The small group that planned the trip to the Eastern Palace last night had quickly snowballed as word spread. The group now contained the entirety of Emmeryn's palace guard, including the Pegasus Knight group under Captain Phila, the workers that had to attend to the logistics of maintaining the ill-used palace and the garrison it would soon contain, and a few trusted nobles and their retainers that had caught on to the plans. Interspersed throughout the various wagons, carts, and horses walked a few others, mostly Shepherds under Prince Chrom's command. He'd emptied their barracks for this, as he wanted everyone available to protect the Exalt. Cainne, Martin, and Lyta were also part of the convoy, and as of this morning were being considered as temporary members of the Shepherds, though their membership was tenuous at best. The others weren't still sure how to react to them, and Marth's reaction at their arrival hadn't exactly helped. As a result, they had mostly stayed separate from the others, though some sort of interaction was inevitable.

For now, though, Cainne had managed to avoid it. She was not looking forward to explaining herself to Chrom, or worse, to Panne. Fortunately, the long march to the eastern palace had occupied everyone's attention, and no one had tried to press her for information. Instead, she found herself checking in with her teammates, and while Lyta was fine on her own, Cainne and Martin had started talking to keep the monotony of the march at bay.

"I mean, everything would be so much simpler if they would," Martin continued. He'd been on this subject for the last few minutes, and showed no signs of stopping. In truth, Cainne suspected he just wanted something to do. "Here we are with the huge advantage of being from an alternate timeline, so you'd expect that we'd be able to use that knowledge to some extent. That's what I thought, at least. But last, I checked, we've been able to predict exactly nothing, correct?" he looked over to Cainne, expecting an answer.

"To my knowledge, no, we haven't," she answered, already aware of what was coming next.

"Meanwhile, Marth somehow knows exactly where and when she needs to be to stop an assassination. What does she know that we don't?"

"I don't know the extent of her knowledge," Cainne answered, "but I think I understand the gaps in our own. You've heard Chrom talk about the war his father fought in, correct?"

"Yeah, I have," he said, nodding. "The war fifteen years ago, the one between Plegia and Ylisse. What about it?"

"Well, that's the essence of what everyone says about it, that it was fifteen years ago, involved the Exalt and Plegia, and was dangerous. People don't particularly want to relive those times, and so it isn't brought up often, and when it is, not too much is said beyond the basics. Looking back, or I suppose forward, it seemed people talked about this war in the same way. No one told us exact dates or times, just general events. We don't have enough information to act on."

"I suppose you're right," Martin lamented. "No one thought that such information would be useful to us, at least not in the way it is right now. Too bad." He shook his head in remorse. Before Cainne could say something else, his eyes widened. "We'll talk later, but I really should get out of here before things get…tense." Before Cainne could ask what he meant, he sprinted off behind a wagon and out of sight. Her question was answered a moment later, however, when a very determined Taguel managed to push her way through the crowd moving in the opposite direction, making a beeline for Cainne as soon as she was spotted.

"Cainne. I wish to speak with you." She said, quickly closing the gap and falling into step. Cainne supposed this conversation was inevitable, but she hadn't wanted it this quickly. Unfortunately, she no longer had a choice.

"Hello, Panne," she replied, keeping her facial expression neutral.

"I desire to know what your tribe is like. Until I met you, I believed the Taguel to be nearly extinct. You seem to be proof that they aren't." At least she was straightforward. Cainne took a deep breath. She'd known this was coming.

"I wouldn't know," Cainne responded with a sigh. "My family wasn't very welcome within our tribe, so my experience with them is limited. I have no idea how the tribe fares, or even if they're still alive. Those who targeted your warren may not have acted alone. Even if they are alive, they live across the sea."

"So, you do not know of your own tribe?" Cainne asked, after a pregnant pause.

"No, and I am sorry. I wish I could help you."

"I see. That is...disappointing." Panne turned away with a huff and disappeared into the crowd. Cainne understood her disappointment. The Taguel had lost her entire warren, her entire race, and then found a spark of hope in Cainne. A spark that Cainne had just extinguished.

"I doubt that will be the end of it," said a voice from behind her. She turned to find a soldier falling into step next to her, his blue hair rustled by the breeze and his sword strapped to his waist.

"My Lord," Cainne greeted, somewhat surprised by the meeting. Chrom turned to her.

"You two seem very different. I did not expect that."

"Of course we are different," she responded. "I am no more like Panne than you are like Vaike. Species should not define who we are."

"I misspoke," Chrom grimaced. "I apologize, for I meant no offense."

"I take none, Prince, and I understand what you meant." She hadn't meant to shame him in truth, but she seemed to share Panne's bluntness. "Panne has had a truly unthinkable experience with humans, and it has marred her interactions with them. I have not, and so do not share the same biases. Often, we are defined by our experiences." Chrom nodded.

"Wise words, and they seem to have won you the support of others. Your friends seem to consider you the de facto leader of their group." Cainne looked at him, her surprise showing through her expression. "It's true. I spoke with them earlier, and both agreed, independently."

"Strange that they would think so highly of me," she mused. "Do not worry, though. I defer to your authority."

"Now it is you who misunderstands me," Chrom smirked. "I do not desire to usurp your command; that would be a quick way to earn the ire of everyone involved. I merely wanted to get a judge of the character of you and your friends. You seem like good people."

"We mean well," Cainne responded. "And we do mean to provide any help we can."

"I appreciate it. You said there were four of you, correct? You three and then the one who you left the message for in Ylisstol?"

"Yes, well…" Cainne trailed off, and then sighed. "There was another, a swordsman."

"Was?" Chrom asked. "What happened? Err, if it's no trouble." Cainne waved away his concern.

"He is still alive, if that is what you're worried about. In fact, he is the reason why we're here." Chrom nodded, relieved, and Cainne continued. "The five of us met some years ago, we all happened to be in the same place at the same time and got pulled into a strange plot. As a result, we became good friends, and worked with each other a few other times over the years. When people started talking about strange lights and monsters in this continent, we decided to investigate."

"And here you are, right in the midst of it all. What happened to the swordsman?"

"He stole something…Its value is mostly sentimental, though he could make some coin from a particularly unscrupulous salesman." She shook her head. "I do not think he means to sell it, though. Either way, he betrayed us, and we need to find him. We had just lost our only lead when we stumbled onto your cultist friends yesterday."

"So what, then, brings you to travel with us?" Chrom asked.

"I may not be native to this land, but I can tell that this war is not right. I want to do my part to keep the innocent safe." Cainne paused for a moment, then smirked. "Not to mention, all this traveling might help us find my errant friend."

"Well, your assistance is appreciated, by myself at the very least," Chrom responded. "Perhaps when this war ends I can see if we can help find him."

"Thank you, Prince Chrom."

"And for what it's worth, I think I can see why your friends look up to you." With that, he strode off, and Cainne was left alone with her thoughts.

* * *

While the details that he had about this war were sparse, Martin did have something to work with. Specifically, he knew that this whole trip was not going to succeed. People spoke about many events in this war, however vaguely. But he had never heard mention of this Eastern Palace actually being put into service. That could mean many things, not the least that the castle was a successfully-kept secret. But Martin didn't think that was the case, and if he was right, it meant that the caravan wasn't going to make it much further. As such, he was preparing for an attack.

However, he didn't know what kind of attack to expect. If the Plegians had heard about the Exalt moving, they would be eager to intercept and capture her, there was no doubt. But Martin had no idea how they would even know, considering that no one who wasn't vital to the mission had been told about the column. Even if the Plegians did somehow find out, they would be hard-pressed to catch up to the caravan. Wyverns or pegasi could make the trip, but that alone wouldn't be enough to defeat Emmeryn's guard, let alone the Shepherds. There had to be something already in place between them and the Palace. But what?

Martin didn't have an answer. He had some fragments of the greater picture, but he couldn't see how they fit together without the pieces he was missing, at least not until it all played out.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Lyta walked by, moving in the opposite direction of the convoy. As usual, her hood was covering her face, but it looked like she was doing her best not to draw attention as she passed. He sidestepped into her path before she could pass by.

"East is that way, actually." Lyta looked up.

"Oh, hey Martin. Don't mind me. I'm just headed for the end of the convoy."

"Why?" Martin asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Not really," she replied. "People just keep trying to talk to me." Lyta made to pass Martin. He knew that Lyta wasn't very fond of…people. When faced with someone new, she would rather disappear entirely than suffer through introductions. It had taken him a solid week of effort to get her to say a single word to him, and he'd been persistent. Once she started to speak with someone, then she would have no problem opening up, but getting her to take that first step was abnormally difficult. It didn't help that she was so good at disappearing. Martin even wondered if this sort of situation was where she had perfected that particular ability.

"Come on, Lyta." Martin said, placing himself directly in her way. "We don't know how long we'll be in the Shepherd's company. It might be a while. It'll be good to make friends, you know. Especially when you might be fighting with them in the future."

"Do I have to?" She asked, the effect of her pleading expression somewhat lost because of her cowl.

"It'd make my job a lot easier," Martin responded, somewhat sarcastically. "If you need someone covering you, I'd rather it be someone you know than someone you don't, or worse, someone that distrusts you."

"Alright, fine," Lyta answered with a sigh. "I'll do it because you asked me to, but don't expect me to like it." She turned around and wove back into the crowd ahead. Martin smirked. Having friends was good, and in this line of work it paid to have connections. It was too bad he couldn't make friends with someone who could help him reveal the future.

Or could he? An idea stirring in his mind, Martin headed towards the center of the column, hoping to find the only other person he could entrust this problem to.

* * *

Well, here it was, just as the priest had said. Aiden found himself facing the trap he knew would be here. Now he just had to make sure he didn't spring it.

The road west from Spine's End, in reality little more than a footpath, had been mostly clear, and Aiden had made good time. Knowing that the priest had said that Vanir would be a day's walk away, Aiden had left the trial a little before noon, in order to avoid walking into any ambush that might have been prepared for him. After some time in the desert sands, he had circled around, back towards the trail.

Now, the trail was in sight, but so was something else. Some distance from the road, the ground sloped downward into a small canyon, rock embankments forming a natural barrier on either side. From the road, the desert sands would have made it invisible. Nestled in the center of the canyon was an armed encampment.

The camp was surrounded by a mud and stone wall of the variety common to Plegian towns and cities. Inside the walls were an orderly scattering of tents and buildings of the same material as the walls. There was a thick wooden gate that opened to a path connecting to the main road, and this was watched by a small group of armed guards. However, the rest of the camp was left unwatched, a sign to Aiden that the occupants were confident in their secrecy. Armed individuals walked to and fro between the various structures in the camp. It was a bandit hideout, albeit a fortified one. If Aiden hadn't been on the lookout for a trap, he would have had no chance.

But was this Vanir's work? Unless Bron's forces had more men than they let on or Vanir had been planning his betrayal for a long time, the few days since Bron's death would not have been enough time to set any of this up. This was probably the work of an entrenched and powerful group in the region, not an unlikely situation in this lawless section of Plegia so close to a black market hub. If Vanir was here, he had fallen in with them. Aiden wondered what he had offered them, and considered if it was maybe the same thing Aiden himself sought.

Barging into an armed camp with no clear goal would be suicide even with the element of surprise, and Aiden wasn't even sure that Vanir was even here. He wasn't going to rush into this like he had with everything else so far; doing that had only gotten him in more trouble. For now he'd wait, taking advantage of his positioning and the bandits' negligence to gather information, and then he'd make his move, assuming what he saw was suspicious enough. If he saw Vanir, all the better. It would mean he was in the right place. He could plan from there. But for now, Aiden took shelter under an outcropping of rock. It'd be a while.

* * *

Robin felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to find Martin, apparently mulling something over.

"Oh, hey. It's good you're here. I was actually hoping to ask a few questions." Martin nodded, but hesitantly.

"Alright," he responded, "but I need to ask you something too." Robin nodded.

"This won't take long. I just need to get a sense of what roles you and your teammates fill. It'll help me do my job better, and make sure you all get to do what you're best suited for." He needed to do this if the new people were going to be anything of a more permanent fixture in the Shepherds. As it was, although he'd seen them fight, he barely knew what they preferred to do in combat.

"Yeah, I get it," Martin responded. "Happy to be of service." Martin seemed to fill the same role as Robin himself, a sort of battlefield tactician. As such, Robin hoped to better understand his viewpoint.

"We'll start off simply," Robin began. "What do you find yourself doing on the battlefield, Martin?"

"Well, I do whatever needs doing," Martin answered. "I know how to cast a spell and swing a sword, among other skills. I'm not as adept at either as some of your Shepherds, but I can multitask. In short, you can put me wherever you want, and I'll do my best." He finished, though for a brief moment it looked like he wanted to add something else. Robin nodded, choosing not to press further.

"If I may ask, do you have any experience with tactics or strategy? I got that impression from your group." Martin shrugged.

"I manage our group's tactics, yeah. In an unofficial sense, anyway. There has to be someone, or else things fall apart at the first sign of trouble. But I guess that's your job now, isn't it?" Martin smirked.

"I suppose so," Robin replied. "But tactics aren't fixed in stone. The best ones are flexible, to allow for changes in the tide of battle. If you see an opportunity or a risk, feel free to take action, so long as it's within reason. Prove to Chrom that you can handle it, and eventually you might find yourself where I am now. I didn't have any qualifications when Chrom found me in a field, and it'd be nice to not constantly be in charge of everyone else."

"In a field?" Martin chuckled. "And Chrom thrust you into the position of tactician, right there?"

"Yeah, it's a little strange, isn't it?" Robin grinned.

"Definitely," Martin responded. "But it's worked so far. Can't argue with results."

"I guess. Anyway, what about your teammates? I'd like your input, seeing as you have planned around them longer than I have." Martin nodded.

"So, Lyta specializes in stealth tactics and archery, correct?"

"Yeah," Martin responded. "That should be about it. Anything else?"

"Just one more question, something Frederick wanted me to ask," Robin said. "Do any of you have ties to Plegia? It's a strange question, I know, but we don't call him Frederick the Wary for nothing."

"Not that I can think of," Martin answered. "At least, nothing that would interfere with the Shepherds or your war effort."

"Alright, thanks. Frederick just wanted me to make sure you weren't spies. It seemed silly to me, but the Exalt's trip does need to be kept secret." Robin turned to Martin, only to find him holding his hands to his temples, eyes wide. "Didn't you have a question?"

"Not anymore," Martin said, running off. "I think you just answered it!"

* * *

He walked on, the path stretching ever onward in both directions. The sun was beginning to set, but its heat still beat mercilessly down on him. He was surrounded by supposed friends, though he knew not if he could really trust them. For though the enemy could lurk behind any corner, a far worse threat had insinuated itself among those he would consider his allies. He could strike down Plegians with little difficulty, but the true foe could not be touched with a blade. They were too devious, too vicious, too-

"Hey there, friend."

Too right next to him.

"Silence, huh? Alright. Name's Lyta." At this, the hooded woman who had appeared sitting in the wagon before him extended her hand. He made no movement. After a moment, she withdrew her offer. "Judging by the stony silence, you must be Lon'qu."

"…Yes," he growled out.

"You don't talk much, do you?" she asked.

"Not with the likes of you," he answered, turning away. He walked past another wagon, turning behind it so that he was out of sight, and then grabbed onto the back as it passed. He should be safe inside he-

"You're going to have to do a lot better than that, friend." She was here! Lon'qu jumped out of the wagon, rolling as he hit the ground. How had she done that? Did she possess some form of witchcraft? He didn't wait long to find out, quickly getting to his feet and sprinting towards the rear of the caravan. He doubled back, turned right and left, dodged carts and travelers, and eventually found himself climbing onto the top of one cart, lying flat so he couldn't be seen. She couldn't possibly find him now.

He waited. Nothing. Good. He'd actually escaped this time.

"I'll admit, that was funny." Lon'qu turned around to find the cloaked woman, staring at him from her perch on the cart. "You looked kind of like a chicken running around without its head." Lon'qu, defeated, remained silent. "Look, I know that for some reason you fear women. Gossip like that doesn't take long to travel. But I'm not leaving."

"Why must you insist on tormenting me?" He finally asked? "Do you find it humorous?" Damn women and their games!

"No," she innocently replied. "I'm curious. I normally avoid conversation altogether. But here I am, talking to you like you're an old friend. I feel at ease talking to you, and I don't even know why. What is it about you?"

"I don't know," Lon'qu growled. "I can provide no answers to you, woman. Leave me be!"

"You have issues, my friend," Lyta told him, but couldn't say more before someone called out to her.

"Lyta? What are you doing?" She looked over at the new arrival, a man wearing a dark coat over a set of light armor.

"I'm making friends, like you told me to!" She responded before jumping off of the cart.

"It looks like you're terrifying the poor man. But come on, I need your help with something." The newcomer motioned, and Lyta started to walk away with him. Lon'qu grunted, and slowly got down from his perch. He feared that he hadn't seen the last of that woman.

* * *

"Alright, Martin, what did you need?" Cainne asked as she approached. Marti nodded to her in way of greeting, and she looked over to see Lyta waving to her as well.

"Sorry to cut short your introductions, but I think we have a problem." Martin led the group from the rest of the column, away from prying eyes or ears. Cainne guessed at his intent.

"I take it that this involves what we discussed earlier?" She asked.

"Yeah," Martin responded. "This convoy doesn't make it to the Eastern Palace, but I didn't know why. I've been thinking it over, and I think I know what goes wrong. The Plegians would need airborne troops to keep up, and so a direct confrontation would not be favorable for them. But according to our orders, we'll be reaching a mountain pass tomorrow. It would be a fantastic place for the enemy to lay an ambush, especially if they don't have to worry about the steep terrain. I think we're going to be attacked tomorrow."

"But how would the Plegians even know about us?" Cainne asked. "We've covered our tracks well, and we left very quickly. They'd need a prophet to figure out where we were. Or a spy."

"Exactly," Martin responded. "The Exalt is well liked by her people. But I overheard Chrom speaking about how it wasn't always so. Many didn't trust her, or blamed her for the war. Combine latent hostilities with the fear that Ylisse will lose the war, and it wouldn't take much for someone to become a traitor."

"That's where we come in, I assume." Lyta said. It was a statement, not a question. Martin nodded.

"I need you on the lookout for suspicious activity. If the Plegians are going to lay an ambush, they'll need to know where we are and where we're headed. I'm willing to bet that our traitor, if they exist, will send some sort of message between now and tomorrow. If we catch them in the act, we can turn them into the Shepherds, get out of an ambush, and show the others that they can trust us."

Cainne nodded her approval, but Lyta looked troubled.

"Is something wrong, Lyta?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Lyta answered. "I've just been wondering if maybe we shouldn't do anything." The others gave her a quizzical look, but she continued. "We aren't supposed to be here, in this time. If it weren't for Aiden, we _wouldn't_ be here. I'm worried that something we do might irreversibly mess everything up. What we're doing here? It feels wrong. The convoy doesn't make it, sure, but I don't recall this ever being some significant event. Everyone gets out fine. But what if something we do screws that up? What if letting Chrom know about this supposed ambush just sends us back into some larger trap? Or the Plegian Army? Should we just let things be?" Martin stayed silent for a few moments, thinking, before he tried to respond.

"I get what you're saying, Lyta," he said back, taking his time with his answer, "but I wonder if we might already be too late to let things be. Our presence here alone can change things, it already has. The sorcerer involved with the attack last night sent more men to kill Chrom not because we actually did anything, but because our mere presence gave him a bad feeling. If we hadn't been there, that attack might have succeeded." He started to be surer in his answer now, picking up speed as he went. "We had a hand in causing that, I know, but we also helped fix it. Aiden is out there doing Naga knows what, and there's no one else who can try and fix whatever he's caused. And the truth is I don't know what is 'right' here and now. We can guess, but the only thing we can do is try to do what we think is the best course of action. Sure, our actions may mess things up, but we can fix things, like we did last night. And who knows, maybe something good will come from our tampering." He finished, and then shrugged. "I mean, it's worth a try." Lyta, however, was still troubled.

"How about a compromise?" Cainne chimed in. "I think I agree with Lyta that avoiding this ambush may be worse than just fighting through it, given what we know. But I think Martin has a point. We can do some real good here, if we're careful. Here is what I suggest: we try and find the spy, and if we succeed, then so be it. But we don't take action against him, and we don't," she motioned towards the convoy, "tell anyone else about it. The ambush happens, as planned, and we make sure that as few people on our side get hurt. Objections?" Lyta shook her head, and Martin shrugged.

"And here I thought I was the tactician," he mumbled.

"Don't worry, you're still needed," Lyta responded. "At least until Cainne starts to pick up battlefield strategy." Martin's response was cut off as the wagon drivers called out their latest order: they were halting for the night. The wagons formed a defensive circle, and a camp quickly sprung up around them, with the Exalt and the royal family in the center. Martin and Lyta went to figure out where they would be sleeping, while Cainne stalked off into the brush. She had told them she was going to be hunting, but in reality she had wanted time to think, away from the noise of the humans.

Her solution to the problem Lyta had raised was a temporary one, if it worked at all. There would be harder choices to make soon, and the repercussions of their actions had the potential to change the world. Ironically enough, they were just as unsure about the future as anyone else here. But was she just supposed to stand aside and let things happen, knowing that she could make a difference, but unable to do so? In the dying light, Cainne shook her head. She would do what she had to, and do her best to deal with any consequences. But she would not be reckless. That had been Aiden's mistake, and they all had to pay for it.

* * *

Shione poked aimlessly at the fire pit, wishing that something would happen. They'd had to stop for the night to let the pegasi rest. The animals couldn't have made the trip in one flight, but Shione was still troubled by their inactivity. Rationally, he knew that they had plenty of time to reach and warn the Exalt before the Plegians could reach Ylisstol, but it still felt like every moment sitting here was time wasted.

They'd left the capital that afternoon, after stocking their supplies and helping the remnants of the squadron start the evacuation. They'd made good time, and it looked like they would reach the Eastern Palace before dusk tomorrow, even with this rest. For Shione, it couldn't come quick enough.

Shione had volunteered for first watch. He couldn't sleep in the state he was in even if he had wanted to. He kept thinking back to the attack, little more than a day ago. The fact that so many of the squadron were still alive was a miracle, in part thanks to him. Some of the knights saw him as a hero even, but he knew better. He was a damned fool, not a hero, and what he'd done had been stupid, incredibly so. He'd acted cocksure and haughty in front of the knights, yes, but he hadn't felt it. It was an act so that the knights, already beleaguered and saddened by the loss of so many, wouldn't have to see their new ally already on the verge of breaking.

His stunt had almost killed him, to be sure. It wasn't just the wounds he had sustained, either, though those were bad enough. What had almost broken him was the mental toll of that fight. When he had seen the situation the knights were in, something had snapped. It had reminded him too much of…no, he couldn't think of that right now.

In any event, he'd charged in, uncaring of what happened to himself so long as he gave the Ylisseans an opening. He hadn't been so foolish as to draw the whole army upon himself. Even as stupid as he had acted, he hadn't had a death wish. Instead, he'd snuck towards the outpost, taking whatever opportunity presented itself. Many of the Plegians had landed to pillage the town before it turned to ashes, so he had targeted them first. He'd picked off wyverns and their riders one at a time, striking isolated individuals from behind or inside mostly intact structures. He'd collapsed a barn on a Plegian raiding party at one point to great effect, but it had the unfortunate side effect of bringing everyone else in the area to investigate. He'd hidden in the burning wreckage, mere feet away from the bodies of the men he'd killed, while their comrades swept overhead looking for signs that is was anything more than an accident. They'd left, and he'd moved on.

Next came the men stationed near the tower's main entrance. He had crawled on his hands and knees to the nearest one, not even daring to breathe if anyone looked his way. He used the scrub to catch any grounded wyverns by surprise, taking out the rider before they could raise an alarm. It took a long time for word of the disappearances to spread through the disorganized Plegian forces, but when it did, Shione's cover was blown. A group of riders were dispatched to hunt the cause down, and they found him all too quickly. There had been three. He caught the first off guard when they got overconfident, but the others were better prepared. Not only that, but they were angry. An axe blow cost him the use of his left arm, and a lucky jab hit him in the back. If the pegasus knights guarding the gate hadn't helped fend the last Plegian off, he would have died. He was losing consciousness by the time he had climbed the stairs and gotten the aid of a healer, amazed at his own ability to even stand.

What kept him up was the memory of those he had killed. Seven Plegian wyvern riders and five infantry soldiers. Possibly more, if the one he had left unconscious on the mountain hadn't made it. He wouldn't have acted differently, if given the chance. They were the aggressors in a war that threatened too many innocent people, and he couldn't have turned around and let the Ylissean knights die. Some of the wyvern riders would have been the kind that the world was better off without, to be sure. The Plegian army had a habit of recruiting that sort. But others were just soldiers, following orders and doing what they thought was right. Like the Ylisseans, like him. Just acting under the orders of the mad king who sat on the throne.

"Your watch is almost up." It was Cordelia, walking over. She sat down next to him. "I'm almost glad. Couldn't sleep. Might as well put my restlessness to use."

"Thinking about yesterday?" He asked. Cordelia nodded.

"It all seems so strange. A few days ago, we were at peace. Suddenly, we're at war, and I have to wonder if I'll see the next sunrise."

"I don't think anyone expected this." Shione said, knowing that it wasn't true. "I'm not even native to this land, and I've been caught up in events."

"I speak for everyone when I say that we appreciate it. If you hadn't been there…" she trailed off, lost in thought.

"You would have made it, I'm sure of it." It wasn't the whole truth, but it was what she needed to hear. Cordelia nodded.

"It's funny," she said after a moment. "Everyone always looked down on me back at the outpost. They thought I was a geni… thought I was talented and that I looked down at them because of it. But they were all willing to give their lives so that I could escape. Why would they do that?"

"I don't know," Shione responded, "I haven't been around you all long enough. But if I had to guess, I'd think that, beyond their teasing, they care for you. They value your potential, so when it came down to it, they were willing to trust the most important job to you."

"Do you think so?" Cordelia asked, suddenly unsure of herself. "They almost died… they thought I could carry on their legacy… but can I? Just when they all needed me the most, I waited around for us all to die and then prepared to run away. How could they possibly have any faith in me?" She seemed to be on the verge of tears, the exhaustion and emotional distress of the last few days catching up to her. Shione would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same way, but Cordelia needed help.

"You didn't run away, though. I heard you all the way from the tower's ground floor. You didn't want to leave. Your sisters believe in you, and I think they're right."

"Maybe," she said, calming down slightly. "But that's easy for you to say. You're the one who barged in and saved us all. You might even be more talented than me!" Shione grimaced to himself, somewhat annoyed to be praised for the very thing he had just been berating himself for. But Cordelia seemed to be getting more and more animated as she continued, so he didn't say anything. "This means I have more work to do! I need to keep up! That's it, from now on, my goal is to beat you! My pride depends on it!" For someone who didn't like her skill being pointed out, she was very enthusiastic about trying to outclass him. Maybe she just took pride in being the best that she could be.

"I, uh… yeah, sure. We can be rivals, I guess." Shione started to get up. "Since it's your turn at watch, though, I'll try to get some sleep." He walked towards Anem and Cordelia's mount, both already fast asleep. He had lost consciousness before he even landed on his sleeping roll.

* * *

The sun was barely over the horizon, but Aiden had already started moving. It had been a good idea to stay back and watch the encampment. Not long after he had settled into position on the canyon rim above, a group of bandits had left through the main gate and started to patrol the roadway. If Aiden had tried to infiltrate the camp then, he would have been caught between the two groups. His suspicions about the place were confirmed some time later when a man dressed as one of Bron's outfit and carrying a bow had appeared from one of the structures. Aiden couldn't be sure it was Vanir from this distance, but the man seemed similar enough to warrant further investigation. Also, crucially, his hours of observation had shown him a way in. He'd found a small natural descent on the canyon wall, too narrow and steep to be of regular use for anyone. However, for someone who just wanted to get to the canyon floor undetected, it would be perfect. The bandits didn't seem to care about watching their walls, but the rear of the encampment was especially devoid of movement. If Aiden could get over one of the walls there, he'd have a few moments to find cover without being seen.

Now, Aiden was on the canyon floor, making his way towards the encampment. The sun had not yet risen above the canyon walls here, casting long shadows onto the ground. Assuming he was careful, Aiden could use them to approach unseen. The camp didn't seem very active this early, and he was soon standing under the wall. The rocks were weathered and timeworn. The barrier probably served just as well at keeping out sand and wind as it did at keeping out foes. The elements couldn't get it, but they might help him to. There were cracks and pits in the wall at regular intervals, and if he could find the right approach, they could help him climb up without making too much noise.

He would have preferred running start, but there was too great a risk of making noise. Instead, Aiden placed a foot in one crack, reached up and grabbed onto another, and hoisted himself up, quickly planting his remaining limbs where he could. He reached up and grabbed another depression in the wall. His body was trained for fighting, and that strength and endurance kept him aloft now.

It was slow going, though. He just placed one hand above another, foot after foot, but eventually he could go no higher. The handhold he reached for was the top of the wall. Slowly, he pulled himself over. For a few moments, he straddled the top of the wall. Just as he had hoped, there was no movement to be seen, especially at this end of the encampment. He hadn't been discovered. Aiden dropped down, tucking into a roll. He came up ready with his hands on his weapons, ready to draw. He needn't have worried, there was no reaction. It looked like he was in the clear.

His target was one of the larger structures at this end of the compound. He'd seen the bowman he suspected going in and out of the building multiple times during the day. It was either his quarters, or something very important to him. Either way, Aiden would be there the next time he showed up. The building was built into the corner made by the intersection of the wall he had just scaled and the wall to its left. From where Aiden was, it wouldn't be a long walk.

He took his time getting there. It wouldn't be good to mess up after taking so many pains to remain undetected. Not when he was so close. Luckily, it seemed like he was walking through a rather unused part of the camp. There was no movement, and though that could have been due to the early hour, it didn't seem like anyone, not even anyone asleep, was present in the buildings he saw. There were fewer tents here, as well, instead being replaced by more solid and permanent buildings.

A peek inside one building yielded some answers. Inside was a small mountain of grain, bundled up in sacks in a pile reaching up to the ceiling. Another building contained a stockpile of weapons of all varieties: swords and shields, axes of all kinds, clubs and maces, lances and polearms, and even a pair of ballista-like weapons that had been mounted on rotating bases. This part of the camp was where they stored everything they needed to keep the fort running, a stockpile of necessities obtained in any number of ways, many of which Aiden was sure were not legal. This place was ready for a war.

But were they working for Plegia? Aiden would have expected the brigands to be marching out to fight the Ylisseans if they were. Could this just be an incredibly successful band of pirates, or were they preparing for something else? Aiden didn't know, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. In a few moments, he had severed the bowstrings on the ballistae. If the worst happened, he didn't want those turned on him.

Nevertheless, what he sought wasn't here. He crept out of the armory, drawing the door closed behind him quietly. The building he was looking for was nearby, just across the way from the armory. A quick look around the corner revealed that the camp had yet to wake up, so he quietly approached the building. On a hunch, he stopped next to the door. Aiden pressed his ear to the wood, hoping that he wouldn't hear anything. It was not to be.

"…Supposed to be here by now, right? That's what you told me." Aiden didn't know the voice, but it didn't sound happy. The person sounded like a native Plegian, or at least someone who'd lived here a long time. "My men have been patrolling the road for days now, and we haven't seen anything. It's starting to look like your promise is worth even less than you are."

"My contact sent me notice two days ago!" Responded another voice. It was Vanir. The rat sounded like he was trying to act tough, but his voice was quivering. "Our quarry should be here soon, if he hasn't shown up already. I was told he left town yesterday, following the main road like I predicted. He'll be dangerous, but once we capture him, you'll see. It'll be well worth your time." Aiden was starting to worry. Were they talking about him? And who was Vanir's contact?

"That remains to be seen," said the other, "and I'm starting to regret letting you live for this long. Why should I trust you about this big score when you've already come here with something that could set me up for life?"

"Because you can't get much out of this alone. Who could you possibly sell it to? Assuming you can even figure out how to use it. But if we can get its previous owner, all that gets answered. They'll be much more valuable as a package, I promise." Was Vanir talking about the tome? Damn. At least he had it. Aiden might walk out of this whole experience only a little worse for wear, assuming Vanir had also kept the package. From the sounds of it, though, he'd have to deal with this other guy, too. That could be problematic.

"Your source, are you sure he's reliable?"

""He won't fail us." Vanir replied. "One of the few 'good' people left in the country. But he can't run his charity operation without money, which I was too happy to provide in exchange for a little…help." Damn, he was talking about the priest. Aiden had been correct in his suspicions. "And he knows what will happen to his precious downtrodden if he betrays us. A lot of stuff can happen 'by accident' in a town full of criminals." It seemed like the priest had been coerced into this. Maybe his cryptic messages had been a warning. Either way, Aiden had found this trap before it could be sprung. But what did he do now?

"We need to work quickly. The authorities are circling, and I'd rather not be operating with the Mad King breathing down my neck. There's a war on, you know." There was a grunt from Vanir, and the sound of footsteps.

"And once this works out, I'd recommend you reevaluate my usefulness." Vanir responded. "I'm not foolish enough to try a coup against you. My former employer deserved what was coming to him, but I've no quarrel with you. I could see a partnership proving very useful to us both."

With no one around, Aiden could catch them as they walked out the door. He could strike them down before they could react, and then hope that the package was inside. It'd be a gamble, but he might be ab-

Everything went to hell.

A pillar of magma burst out of the ground near the front of the camp. Aiden watched as splinters of the gate fell to the ground, their fall seeming surreally slow. There was a strange moment of silence, and then an uproar. Aiden dove to the side and into the shadows as the door flung open. Vanir and another individual burst out of the room, looking at the commotion. Before Aiden could move, both had sprinted off, out of his reach. Aiden slunk into the shadows cast by the slowly ascending sun as the camp came to life with a stir. He was no longer in any sort of ideal position. Then, a voice boomed out through the canyon, echoing unnaturally from some point beyond the main gates.

"By order of His Majesty King Gangrel, in service of the divine Grima, you all are henceforth ordered to lower your weapons and surrender. Resistance will be met with deadly force. You have fifteen minutes to comply."

The Royal Guard had arrived.

* * *

"Alright everyone, up and at 'em! We'll be moving soon!" The man-spawn, whom Panne had heard called Stahl, was met with the grumbling of those who were still awake. Those who were still asleep nevertheless started to rise and prepare for the day's marching. She herself had been awake since sunrise, as was the norm amongst her people. She had not been the only one awake at the time, as many of the humans were busy packing up their campsites from the previous night. However, she had purposely isolated herself, preferring the company of her thoughts to that of the people who had wiped out her kind.

Not all of them, Panne remembered. The Taguel from across the sea was evidence of this, though she seemed reluctant to speak more of the matter. Panne knew that she hadn't told the truth, or at least not the whole of it. Panne had been able to hear the pounding of her heart and seen the signs of nervousness. But Taguel did not lie to each other without reason, so she would respect Cainne's wishes, for now. One day, though, she would find any Taguel who yet lived, if indeed there were any to be found.

Unfortunately, that day would not be today. For now, she would see the human Exalt to safety, as was her duty. The strange human that had foreseen the attack had been insistent on her cooperation. It had been an interesting experience, but at the end Panne had sworn to him that she would do all she could. She intended to see her promise fulfilled, even if it meant traveling with the rest of these man-spawn. Not that he would notice if she left, considering he had disappeared entirely after she had agreed. It was for the better, though, as his crows had nearly driven her mad.

If she was to be entirely honest, though, something else had kept her here. The woman who she was sworn to protect had defied Panne's expectations. Unlike what Panne had seen of the rest of the man-spawn, Emmeryn was kind, well spoken, and refreshingly honest. She, like her kin, was prone to confusing and concealing with speech instead of taking action, but Panne could tell she meant what she said, and she had truly been saddened by the fate of the Taguel. Panne did not wish to be pitied, but she had not expected empathy.

She may have not liked her company, but Panne realized that it did not matter. What she did now was for the Exalt, not for the rest of the man-spawn. The man-spawn had betrayed her, but Emmeryn was not one of those who had acted. Despite herself, Panne had somehow come to respect a human. And the Taguel were nothing if not loyal.

* * *

What the hell was the Plegian Royal Guard doing here? And why now of all times? Aiden stood against a wall as another group of brigands ran past, in too much of a hurry to pay him any mind. He could tell how his would play out. These people were probably accused of so much that they wouldn't get off with slaps on the wrist. They might be able to get away by bribing the guard, but that wouldn't seem like the best choice. After all, the brigands were in a fortified encampment and outnumbered the enemy force. They'd use the fifteen minute grace period to prepare their defenses, and then they'd attack the Plegian Royal Guard.

And they would be slaughtered.

The Royal Guard were well trained and ruthless. They had to be to get their post. Gangrel didn't accept anyone but the best or the worst he could find. These bandits didn't know what they were facing. At best they'd heard the stories. It wouldn't be enough

Perhaps this could work for him. While everyone else was busy fighting and dying, Aiden could try and find what Vanir had stolen. He might even be out before the fighting finished. Fate owed him at this point, so he could always hope.

With that in mind, Aiden crept back into the building Vanir had come from. He wasn't interrupted, everyone else was busy preparing. Perhaps his luck was really starting to change. He was met with what must have passed for the war room of the camp when he crossed inside the structure. Candles cast sufficient light to reveal a heavy wooden table on which rested what seemed to be a map of Plegia. On closer inspection, Aiden could make out a series of indecipherable marks that had been written on the map. Many of them were close to the location of the camp, so Aiden guessed that they were promising targets or troop locations. Where the capital was, someone had driven a dagger into the table. Aiden shook his head. It was a nice symbol, but a waste of a perfectly useful weapon.

A few seconds later, he spotted it. The bundle he'd worked so hard to acquire, leaning right against the wall. He walked over and picked it up. A quick check revealed everything he needed to know: everything was there, and some enterprising soul had thought to package the tome in with the rest. That was convenient, for now at least. Perhaps his luck really was turning after all.

Then there was an explosion. It wasn't far off, probably the Plegians and the bandits kicking things off. That wasn't a concern, but the dagger which had only moments before been embedded in the table ricocheting off the wall mere inches from Aiden's face was. He whipped around and drew his weapons. Vanir stood at the table, somewhat shocked. Aiden figured he hadn't meant to miss.

"Gods damn it all!" The traitor shrieked. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this!"

"Surprised, Vanir? After walking into everyone's traps, I figured it was time to mix things up a bit."

"I'm going to kill that Plegian rat!" Vanir responded.

"I figured it out by myself," Aiden responded. "As for you, I'm surprised to see you here. Shouldn't you be helping out your new friends? Or are you trying to sneak off while they die?"

"Aren't you doing the same? These people were a means to an end. Once you were taken care of, they meant to challenge the king. It would have never worked. The Plegian Guard has just expedited their death." That was not what Aiden had expected. Rebels? And he'd disabled their most effective weapons. What the hell had he…no this wasn't his fight. They would have been doomed anyway. He was here to deal with Vanir and his stolen property, nothing else.

"It doesn't matter." Aiden responded, keeping his composure. "You won't get away. Not again." He lunged forward, slicing at Vanir. The archer leapt back, out of the way. He drew an arrow and nocked it. Aiden wasn't close enough to strike before he had fired. The swordsman ducked to the side as it passed, embedding itself in the wall. Vanir was slipping.

Or perhaps not, Aiden realized, lunging forward. One blade slashed downward toward Vanir's head. He sidestepped, only to find Aiden's other blade sweeping towards his leg. He barely dodged the strike. Aiden realized that he'd never actually seen the archer fight. Everything he'd done had been accomplished through trickery or surprise, not skill. And for once, he'd caught the archer off guard. Vanir wouldn't be able to keep up.

The archer tried to draw another arrow, but he was too close. Aiden's blades swung up. Vanir blocked the strike with his bow. One sword deflected off the metal grip and the other bit into wood. Aiden yanked it back, and it tore free. Vanir threw the now ruined bow towards the swordsmasters' feet, using the few seconds it bought to draw his dagger.

Aiden swung once, twice, three times, to no avail. Vanir, fighting for his life, was using his dagger to great effect. He'd parry Aiden's strikes with just enough force to drive the blow away without overextending himself. Aiden swung downward, and as Vanir once again deflected the blow, he brought his shoulder down and charged. The bull rush caught the archer unprepared, and he stumbled back out of the doorway.

Vanir fell to the ground outside, unable to keep his footing. Aiden charged out behind him, meaning to take advantage of his foes' compromised position. Before he could reach Vanir, the air sizzled and a pressure wave knocked him to his knees. Ears ringing, Aiden took a moment to look around.

The Plegians, evidently, had gotten past the walls. Brigands, or perhaps more accurately rebels, fought Plegian troops everywhere he looked, and they weren't doing well. Yellow runes blinked into existence around a Plegian sorcerer, and then a bolt of energy arced out directly towards one of the bandit fighters. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as another pressure wave rolled over the swordsmaster. There were powerful spell casters here, most likely high-ranking Grimleal. Anything that wasn't stone was on fire, though Aiden wasn't sure if magic was responsible the blaze. Smoke clouded the air and billowed up into the sky. Wounded or dead rebels lay on the ground where they had fallen.

Shaking his head to try and clear the ringing, Aiden slowly got to his feet. Nearby, a few of the rebels helped Vanir to stand, while another tossed him a bow scrounged from the fallen. There were four of them now. Great. Aiden circled the group, looking for a vulnerability. The three bandits stayed near Vanir, acting as bodyguards. Aiden assumed that they didn't know Vanir had been just about to skip out, not that he could convince them otherwise. That would make things more difficult.

An arrow whistled past him, landing somewhere far beyond his caring. Of course, now that Vanir was once again armed, Aiden couldn't stay at a distance. He darted forward, just out of reach of the enemy, hoping they'd charge him. One rushed forward, thinking he saw an opening. Aiden pivoted out of the way of the first clumsy strike and struck out with his blade. It hit armor, but not much else. The brigand swung again and Aiden rolled under the strike. He quickly turned around and struck at the bandit's exposed back with both swords. The thug fell to the ground, lifeless. Hopefully, that'd attract the attention, and the ire, of the other two.

Someone certainly noticed the skirmish, but not who Aiden had expected. A pillar of flame burst from the ground, knocking Vanir and his lackeys off their feet. Aiden flew back, tucking into a roll as he hit the ground. As he stood up, he found himself right next to the culprit: the Grimleal sorcerer from before. He braced for an attack, all too aware of the fate of the sorcerer's last target.

"Who are you!?" It was more a command than a question, but at least he hadn't been fried yet. Now that he was closer, he realized the sorcerer was a woman, a rather short one at that. Beyond that, he couldn't discern anything beyond the dark robes and helmet that her order often wore. In the early morning shadow, he couldn't even see her face.

"Someone who's found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Aiden yelled back. "I'm after that archer there!"

There was no response from the sorcerer, but the fact that she hadn't attacked him was promising, so Aiden turned back to his quarry. Where Vanir had stood was a smoking hole in the ground. The brigands and the archer had been scattered around, somewhat charred but alive. Aiden ran forward, hoping to reach Vanir before the archer could get up. The archer, up on all fours, saw him coming but couldn't regain his feet. Instead, his hand reached toward his belt and then swung towards Aiden. Aiden didn't even know what had happened until the dagger embedded itself in his side. In shock, he dropped his swords.

Adrenalin coursing through his system, Aiden didn't even feel it. There was a blast of magical energy behind him, probably the sorcerer attacking the remaining brigands. He didn't care. He surged on, crashing into Vanir. His momentum carried the two of them forward until they fell to the ground, Aiden pinning the archer. His weapons gone, he tried to pummel Vanir with his fists. Wounded but still very much alive, Vanir grappled with him, keeping the worst from hitting. Aiden reared back and slammed his head forward, hearing bone crunch. For the second time, he had broken Vanir's nose.

With the archer reeling, Aiden reached down to his side, finding the hilt of the dagger still there. He yanked it out with a gasp, suddenly feeling the pain very acutely. Stupid! His thoughts were blurring. Something on the knife, probably. Damn, he…he had to finish this. He brought the knife up, and then down. The light left Vanir's eyes, and his head rolled back. Aiden rolled off the archer, vision darkening. With the last of his energy, he reached for his pouch. If he could grab a vulnerary, he could…

* * *

He…had…to keep…going. Only…a little farther. Right?

"Ugh, my poor feet! I've got blisters the size of eggs!" Lissa moaned. Robin had to agree. Yesterday's pace had been manageable, but after an all too brief rest, Chrom had doubled their marching speed. They hadn't stopped yet, and Robin was starting to feel fatigued. As such, when Chrom stopped to turn around, Robin was all too relieved to stay in place.

"Oh, it's not so bad, Lissa," Chrom responded. "Just a healthy little stroll! How are you holding up, Robin?"

"My legs feel like pudding," Robin answered, catching his breath. "Your endurance astounds me, Chrom." The rest of the caravan seemed ready to give out, but Chrom hadn't even broken a sweat. It was fascinating. Chrom laughed it off.

"Should I carry you?" He asked through a grin.

"You can carry me!" Lissa interjected, also grinning, before she became suddenly dour. "No, seriously. I would really be okay with you carrying me." Honestly, if Robin were in her same situation, he might have said yes to Chrom's joke. But he had his dignity to maintain.

A green-robed man walked past the group, preoccupied with his own thoughts. It was only when he almost bumped into Frederick that he noticed where he was, stepping back quickly.

"Is something troubling you, hierarch?" Frederick asked. "You keep glancing up at the peaks." Robin himself looked towards the mountaintops above them, though he couldn't see anything. He was somewhat worried himself. This mountain pass was the quickest way to the Eastern Palace, but it wasn't easy to cross. At its narrowest, four men could walk comfortably abreast through it, but a wagon would barely squeeze through. On one side of the road, the mountain dropped away steeply. Any fall there would be deadly. To the other side, the mountain's peak rose high above them, as did the peaks of every mountain that surrounded this pass. It would be trouble enough to bring the convoy through here, but if any rocks were to dislodge themselves or any particularly enterprising bandits attack, it wouldn't be easy to fend them off in such cramped conditions.

But that was why he, Chrom, and the others were ahead of the caravan. If there was trouble, they'd spot it first. But why was this hierarch here? Robin walked over to Chrom.

"Chrom, who is that?" he whispered.

"The hierarch?" Chrom answered, loudly. "He's been a friend of House Ylisse for many years. He guided Emmeryn during the early years of her rule. Why do you ask?"

"I can't quite say why, but something doesn't feel right," Robin responded. "I don't think I'm the only one, either. I saw Martin staring at the hierarch very intently over breakfast this morning."

"Hmm," Chrom grumbled. "I don't know, but if you're curious, we can enquire more. Speaking of which, have you seen those three? They disappeared after we broke camp."

Before Robin could respond, a rough call sounded out. A pair of men, heavily armed, charged around the bend. On a hunch, Robin looked up the mountain, only to see what had to be a squadron of wyverns summit the mountain and come flying directly for their position. A trap!

"Time to die, princey!" the nearest bandit called out, drawing his weapon. Chrom responded in kind, with Robin the other Shepherds following his lead. Farther down the path, a few of the wyverns landed, brandishing their weapons and proudly displaying the Plegian emblem on their armor.

"Plegian soldiers? Damn!" Chrom cursed. "How did they find us?"

Before Robin could respond, the hierarch rushed past Robin, barely avoiding running into him. The thugs in front of Chrom caught him as he ran past, though he tried to struggle out of their grip. One wyvern rider approached, his armor more ornate than that of his brethren.

"Hold, sir!" The hierarch called out. Robin didn't like where this was headed. "I am the man King Gangrel told you about! Did you not receive orders to take me into your protection?" Damn! That explained it. The man was a traitor. That could be a complication in the future if he got away.

"I've orders to protect a man, true." The rider, who must have been the leader of the group, responded. "But I see no man here! Only a pig! A rasher of traitorous bacon that sold out his own sovereign! And what do we do with little piggies, hmm?" Robin could tell that this was about to be very bad for the hierarch. But he wasn't sure if he should try to stop this, let alone if he even could. At least he knew that this particular Plegian preferred to send a message as opposed to the very real tactical advantage such a high-ranking traitor would provide.

"Well, you…" the hierarch could feel the noose tightening, but he was trying desperately to escape. " I mean, perhaps… you let them go free?" He stammered, the last sentence barely audible.

"Oh, are you a chicken now?" the rider taunted, imitating a rooster before continuing. "We've a whole barnyard in our midst! Well, it doesn't matter what you are. The axe will fall just the same!" He gestured to the brigands, one of whom pushed the hierarch down while the other raised his axe. From this distance, the hierarch would be dead before anyone could even take a step.

Suddenly, a shaft sprouted from the wrist of the axe man. A split second later, another arrow struck the second thug in the chest, spinning him around and making him lose his grip on the hierarch. As for the hierarch himself, he could only sit there, paralyzed with fear.

Martin slid down the few feet of slope that he stood upon and slowly stepped into the center of the path. Behind him and some distance up the slope stood Lyta, while Cainne came to a halt nowhere next to the hierarch.

"There have to be better spies than him," Martin said, motioning toward the man kneeling nearby. "And there have to be better ways for you to deal with them. Perhaps killing your one source of information isn't the best idea?" He turned to the hierarch. "Get to the rear of the column. I can't say the Exalt won't do anything to you, but she won't kill you." The hierarch nodded, stumbling as he rose to his feet. As quickly as he could, he started to sprint towards the column.

The Plegian rider looked onward at the new arrivals with some indifference, taking a moment to examine his axe before hurling it towards them. Martin and Cainne ducked while Lyta shot an arrow, but they weren't his target. The throwing axe buried itself in the hierarch's back, knocking him to the ground. Lyta's arrow shot past the soldier's face.

"You'll have to try harder than that, Ylisseans." He spoke, his voice calm. "All that effort, and still your hierarch is dead while your own doom approaches. Give me the Fire Emblem and your wench of a ruler, and spare yourselves a gory end!" Robin saw Chrom grimace. Without waiting for an answer, the Plegian climbed into his saddle and took to the skies.

"Phila, take Emmeryn to the rear of the column," Chrom ordered. "We'll fend of these blackguards! As for you three, fall in!" As the Shepherds took battle positions, Robin turned to Martin.

"How'd you figure out that was going to happen?" He asked.

"Just found out. Lyta saw him send off a message on a bird, so we were suspicious," Martin answered. "We were just observing from over the ridge when the Plegians showed up. Sorry for the entrance, it was quick thinking." Robin nodded.

"Just try to give us some sort of sign next time, alright? We could have helped." Martin shrugged sheepishly. Moments later, the first of the wyverns attacked. Robin rolled out of the way as one landed where he had just been standing. As Robin prepared a wind spell, arrows flew out overhead, reaching for the wyverns. Good, Virion and perhaps Lyta had found firing positions. Robin felt a surge of energy from the tome, channeling it through his arm as he read the words written there. Runes encircled him and a crescent of wind as sharp as a knife cut towards the wyvern.

It hit the wyvern on its side, shredding its wing. But as it had already landed, the wyvern merely roared in pain as the rider spurred it towards the tactician. Robin drew his sword, noticing as he did that a smaller white shape joined the battle above. Sumia had taken off, then. As he rolled out of the way of a blast of fire, he found himself wishing that Phila or her knights had done the same. They were standing guard near the first wagons, blocking the path from a few more ambitious Plegians instead of taking to the sky, but they could use more people occupying the wyverns in the air.

"I-I think I see something!" Shione shouted into the wind. Cordelia, flying just ahead, turned to him. Seeing he had her attention, he gestured ahead, to where he could occasionally see what looked like something moving. It was too far to discern anything more, but they were supposed to be on the same path through the mountains that the Exalt take to the Eastern Palace. Therefore, it was worth checking out.

After a few moments of scanning ahead, Cordelia nodded in affirmation. She saw it too. The two knights spurred their pegasi, sweeping lower as they sped up. Soon, they saw the cause of the commotion: a flight of wyverns circling something. Spread out some distance away was a wagon convoy, seemingly untouched by the wyverns. As Shione approached, he could make out figures on the ground, apparently fighting the wyverns.

"Those might be the Ylisseans!" Cordelia shouted. Shione nodded.

"If that is them," he responded, "then those wyverns have to be Plegian!"

"Plegians here as well?" she yelled, incredulous. "We have to warn the Prince!" Shione nodded, and they dove into the fight.

* * *

The raider fell to the ground, blood pouring from his wounds. Robin shook his head before scanning for the next enemy. Out of the swirling shapes above him, a white blur resolved into the outline of a pegasus with a rider. Robin almost called out, but the figure on the back didn't look like Sumia. She seemed much more determined than Robin's friend, and more comfortable in her saddle as well.

"Prince Chrom! Captain Phila!" She called out, drawing the attention of both. "We're here to aid you! Allow us to help!" with that, she flew off. Robin turned to Phila.

"Was that- gods, Cordelia?" she asked with a mixture of shock and confusion. When Robin cast her a bewildered look, she turned to him. "She's one of my knights. Young, but gifted. But she was stationed on the border! Why is she- oh, gods, could it be?" Before Robin could inquire further, another group of brigands charged into battle. Troubled by Phila's outburst but unable to focus on it, he prepared another spell. It seemed his wish had been granted, but at what cost?

* * *

Cainne's lance flashed and spun, barely staving off the wyvern rider's swings. He was hovering right above the ground, using his wyvern to simply fly out of reach of any of her attacks. Cainne could use her lance to keep his strikes at bay, but he wouldn't stay still long enough for her to land a hit.

She ducked as the riders' axe whistled over her head, and then lunged forward, catching him by surprise. The lance struck forward, only to hit armor as the rider started to move out of the way. The force of the strike combined with repeated usage from the last few days, and with a resounding crack, the wooden haft splintered in two. Cainne, suddenly weaponless, followed through with her lunge and rolled under the wyvern, trying to stay out of reach of the beast's talons.

The wyvern rider, all too aware of his advantage, turned around to face her. Without her lance to ward him off, he was free to be as reckless as he wanted. It took all of Cainne's skill to avoid the attacks. She jumped away and back from one swing, hoping to put some distance between them. Before he could close the gap, the rider was ripped from his saddle as a furred form the size of a horse leapt over the wyvern, grabbing him. Cainne watched as Panne finished the Plegian off and turned to her.

"You fight with man-spawn weapons?" Panne asked, her voice distorted by her transformation. "Why do you not fight these foes as a true Taguel would?" Cainne could hear the disappointment in her voice, but Panne did not give her time to respond before the massive rabbit had already leapt away. Cainne shrugged, scanning the field for something to fight with.

"That was a hell of a risk you took," a familiar voice called out as the sound of wings beating drew closer. Cainne looked over to the speaker, surprised. Sure enough, Shione had somehow snuck up on her, but more interesting was the pegasus he rode atop.

"How did you manage to pull this off?" she asked, gesturing to his new mount.

"Impressed?" he asked playfully. "It wasn't much, really. I just saved a squadron of pegasus knights from their certain doom."

"You…what?"

"We can talk about it later," he said, suddenly hesitant. "Besides, I'm not the only one here to take unnecessary risks." Shione reached into a saddlebag, pulling out a small talisman. It gleamed softly in the sunlight, as colorful as any other beaststone. "What was this for?"

"It seemed like a good way to get in contact with you," Cainne responded. "This way you would know for sure it was us."

"And you almost got killed as a result," Shione retorted. "Please, take it." He tossed the stone to her. She snatched it out of the air, quickly retying it around her neck.

"You have my thanks," Cainne stated. "And… I'm glad that you're back."

"Wow, I'm impressed. The bunny actually cares?" Shione snickered.

"Don't push your luck, horse-spawn," Cainne countered.

"Horse-spawn?" Shione asked, incredulously. "Ouch. I've heard better, but there's a battle to win, so we can work on your insults later." Before taking off, he turned back to Cainne. "And I'm glad to be back. Save a seat for me at the table, we've got a lot to discuss." Then, with a blast of wind, he was gone. Cainne nodded. With Shione back, their group was together again. It was a good feeling.

* * *

Shione spiraled upward, Anem working to gain altitude as quickly as possible. The enemy was causing a great deal of difficulty on the ground, so he was going to make sure they didn't make it. Just above him, enemy troops spiraled through the air, locked in an intricate dance with Cordelia and another knight he didn't recognize. He would not be left out of this fight.

One of the riders noticed him, pulling his mount into a dive towards Shione. He was cocky, but Shione was prepared. He flew straight towards the oncoming rider, lowering the grip on his axe. He held onto Anem tightly with his legs as his other hand left the reins and gripped the axe. The rider had a lance, pointed straight at Shione. At the last moment, Shione leaned to his side. Anem responded as best he could, rotating in midair so that Shione was almost parallel to the ground. He flew under the lance, swinging with his axe as he passed. Anem righted herself, and Shione watched as the wyvern tumbled out of the sky.

He hadn't known if that would work, but that just meant the Plegian hadn't suspected it. Shione took a moment to pat Anem on the head. If the pegasus hadn't responded, he might have well been skewered right now.

Cordelia flew past, a wyvern close behind. Shione pulled Anem into a turn, maneuvering to follow the Plegian. Cordelia was giving the rider a hard time, using the pegasus' superior agility to stay well out of his reach. She suddenly turned upward, flying into a low cloud. The Plegian, stupidly, followed, Shione not far behind. A moment later, the wyvern rider cleared the cloud, only to find that his quarry had disappeared somewhere in the cloud bank. He didn't notice as Shione burst through the cloud just behind him. Just like his kin, he too fell from the sky a moment later.

Moments later, Shione pulled into formation behind Cordelia. The skies looked clear.

"Well done. Those Plegians didn't know what hit them." Cordelia nodded. Before he could say more, Shione was distracted by something. It sounded like a voice, but he couldn't make out the words. He looked around, searching for the source. It wasn't hard to spot another pegasus, the one he hadn't recognized, making a beeline for them. The rider was flailing about, motioning almost as if…

Shione yanked Anem to the side, barely avoiding the wyvern rider as he shot right between the pegasi. He pulled his mount around, coming face to face with Shione and Cordelia. For a brief moment, the three hovered there, motionless except for the beating of wings. The Plegian grinned.

"I'll splatter you across the canyon floor!" He shouted, gesturing at Shione with his axe. This had to be the one in charge of the enemy forces, by his armor. He spurred his wyvern on, charging directly for Cordelia. She dove out of the way, avoiding the wyvern's claws by a hair. Shione charged at him, only to have his axe nearly yanked out of his hand by a skilled deflection. The rider went on the offensive, bringing his wyvern to face Shione. Anem desperately tried to keep out of the wyvern's reach, but this rider was skilled. Shione could barely keep him at bay, let alone strike back. Cordelia had fallen a great distance with her dive, and she hadn't yet regained their altitude. The other knight was still some distance away. Shione had to hold him off for just a few more moments.

Anem dropped a slight distance in an evasive maneuver, only to have the wyvern rider fall in behind him. Shione flew to the left and then the right, but couldn't shake him. He tried to get a view of Cordelia, but there was no sight of her down below. Only the wagons and their defenders, unable to reach him all the way up here-

He had an idea. It was stupid, but it might just save him.

With the wyvern still just behind him, Shione dove towards the ground, sharply. The earth drew increasingly close with every passing moment, but he didn't pull up. He could now make out the shapes of some of the people below him. There! That black hood. Shione dove straight towards it.

When his every instinct told him to stop, Shione pulled sharply on the reins. Anem jerked upwards, and Shione soared forward, far too close to the ground for comfort. The wyvern rider was still too close, having pulled out of the dive at a much safer distance but still too quick to escape. But Shione didn't need to escape. He flew right over Lyta, watching as she quickly took stock of the situation. A moment later, an arrow reached out towards the wyvern rider as he obliviously soared right into its path. Judging by the roar, it had hit somewhere important. A moment later, another archer fired at the wounded creature, finishing it off. It tumbled onto the ground, the rider flung free of his saddle.

Shione took his time circling back towards the crash, noticing the others already gathering around. The fight was over, it seemed. Adrenaline still coursing through his veins, Shione brought Anem to the ground, landing and trotting the rest of the way. As he drew close, he noticed someone else approaching the dead wyvern, a tall woman with a serene gaze and ornate robes. It had to be the Exalt.

The wyvern rider struggled to rise up from the ground. He was battered and bloody, but the fall hadn't been quite enough to kill him.

"You doves think...killing me will change anything?" The man, half delirious, chuckled. "Even now, my brothers storm across your precious border..." He looked to the Exalt, spitting on the ground as he stared her down. "Go on, dear exalted coward! Run! Flee while they slaughter your subjects! Save yourself... Let their faith in you...bleed away...with the rest..." He, too, bled away, his life slipping away. The lifeless corpse fell to the ground, but his message had already been delivered. The Exalt stared at the body coldly, her thoughts somewhere else.

* * *

"They're gone." Chrom spoke. Martin nodded. The body had been taken away, but the Exalt still seemed lost in thought. Martin worried that he knew what would come next. Behind him, a red-haired woman approached, Shione close behind.

"Your Grace, my prince," the woman spoke, bowing. "We have come to report that the Plegians march on us. We do not have much more than a day, at most." Phila approached the speaker, concern apparent in her expression.

"Cordelia, what are you doing here?" she asked. "Tell me the border remains secure!"

"Would that I could, milady!" Cordelia responded with a salute. "But it would be false. Gangrel himself led his might against us! A few of my knight-sisters and Captain Thaneta escaped as well, thanks to the intervention of our newest recruit," she gestured towards Shione. Apparently, he'd been busy with his time away. At least he'd managed to get a pegasus. But Martin was troubled by the implications of Cordelia's tale. He'd have to talk to Shione about it later.

"How many were lost?" Phila asked, her tone somber.

"Only seven remain of the garrison," Cordelia answered, "myself and Shione included."

"Their sacrifice will not be in vain. Summon Thaneta and we can join her forces with ours." Cordelia shook her head.

"I cannot. Captain Thaneta and the others bade us to go ahead and warn you: The Plegians now march on Ylisstol. My sisters are organizing an evacuation as we speak. The Plegians will be upon the city very soon, and I believe they will send forces after you as well." Phila nodded, but Chrom swung at the ground.

"Damn those monsters!" he cursed. Martin grimaced. He hoped the Ylisseans had made it out in time.

"I must return to the capital," Emmeryn stated. She was not loud, but her words carried force behind them. They all turned to her, stunned into silence. After a moment, Martin started to speak, at the same time that Phila tried to protest.

"They just said the capital is under-"

"Your grace, I cannot advise-"

"I should never have left." She cut them both off. "The Plegians are after me, not the people. If any innocents are left in the city by the time they arrive... They'll tear the city apart. More Ylisseans could needlessly die." She strode towards Chrom, bearing a flat golden object. "Here, Chrom. I entrust this to you." Chrom took it carefully, holding it with a sort of reverence.

"The Fire Emblem?"

"Take it to Ferox-to safety". Chrom looked at her, shocked.

"And leave you? No, Emm."

"No part of House Ylisse matters more than the Emblem." she responded. Her tone left no room for argument. It possesses tremendous power. But too much blood has been shed over it already." She shook her head ruefully. "I hope it finds a better guardian in you than it did me."

"Emm, come on. You can't…" Chrom trailed off, shaking his head. "Don't talk like that! You sound like you're ready to give up!"

"I am not giving up, Chrom. I am only giving what I can." Martin wanted to argue, to stop this, but the words wouldn't come. He didn't know what to say.

"Emm, please!" Chrom pleaded. "This is madness!"

"Sis, wait!" Lissa ran towards Emmeryn. Robin held her back, though she struggled against him. "Let me go with you!"

"Stay with Chrom, Lissa." When she didn't stop fighting Robin, Emmeryn spoke again, more forcefully. "I command it."

"This isn't fair! It's not fair!" Lissa sobbed, falling to the ground. "I know our people need you, but we need you too!"

"Dry your tears, love. This is not goodbye." And like that, it was decided. No one spoke against the idea.

"Your Grace," Phila spoke up, "the Pegasus knights will accompany you to Ylisstol." Martin nodded. If Emmeryn was going back, she would need help.

"Very well, Phila. Thank you."

"I will keep the prince and princess safe, Your Grace." Frederick spoke. "You have my word."

"I know you will, Frederick." Emmeryn replied. "Thank you."

"It is my honor." The knight answered, standing at attention.

"We will stand with the prince, your Grace," Martin finally said, unable to think of anything else to say. "To the end." Emmeryn nodded.

"Cordelia." Phila called out. "You and the newest recruit will stay here with Chrom."

"But Captain-" Cordelia made to protest, but Phila wouldn't have it.

"This is how it must be. We will meet up with Captain Thaneta, but I want you to stay with the prince. Do not leave him unguarded. Tutor the new recruits."

"…As you command, Captain." Cordelia answered. "I will pray for your safety."

Come, Phila." Emmeryn spoke. "We must go."

"No!" Chrom called out one final time. "You don't have to go! This is absurd!" Emmeryn only shook her head.

"Chrom, you don't-"

"Walking to your own death will not bring peace to anyone! Ylisse needs you. We need you! Be selfish for once in your life!" Chrom was in pain. For once, Martin didn't know what to say. For a moment, Emmeryn did not either.

"... I love you, Chrom." She finally spoke. "Both you and Lissa are my everything. As for the peace I seek...You cannot see who it is for. I have to go. I'm sorry-I truly am. Let us embrace again in Ylisstol when you arrive with Feroxi reinforcements. I know you will come." Chrom, defeated, sighed.

"This is a terrible plan," was all he said. Martin agreed, and he was sure many others did at well. But he could see no alternative. The Exalt was set on it.

"The blood of the first exalt flows strong in us. You and I will keep Ylisse safe. I believe it with all my heart. Safe journey, Chrom. Safe journey, Lissa." With that, Emmeryn turned, and walked away. Phila followed close behind, calling to her pegasus knights as she went. Robin placed a hand on Chrom's shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. Martin stared at the ground, and walked away. He was silent the entire time.

* * *

Once more, Aiden was woken up by a dull ache. His side hurt, and his thoughts were slow. That knife was probably poisoned, so why...?

"Whoever you are, you're a damned fool." It was a man's voice. Old and gruff. Aiden opened his eyes. The sun was higher in the sky, but he was lying under some sort of shade. He was on the ground, lying on something much more forgiving than the bare soil.

"What…happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," the man said. "My men found you delirious in that camp. Said you helped them take down one of the brigand's leaders. We don't know how you got there or why you were there. What I do know is that you took a poisoned dagger to the side. Wouldn't have survived without a skilled healer." Aiden reached to his side, fumbling towards the wound. There was a gash in the clothing, but only smooth skin underneath. His worry must have been apparent, because the man put out a hand. "Don't worry. All it took was a staff. Nothing major. You should be fine. But I'd like you to answer a few questions for me."

"…why?" his throat was parched, but he managed to croak out the question anyway. How long had he been lying in the heat for?

"Just a formality. You're not our prisoner, don't worry. The one who healed you personally vouched for your intentions in helping us. We'd just like to clarify a few things. You answer our questions, and we'll try to help you out as best we can."

Aiden nodded. He'd cooperate, but he would be careful.

"My men were here to put down a group of brigands that had been terrorizing this region for a while. But why were you here? From all accounts, you aren't one of them. Care to explain?"

"They…they stole something of mine. I needed to get it back."

"And so you charged in, unassisted, against a whole camp of brigands?" the man laughed. As Aiden began to focus, he could see the questioner better. He was a large man with close-cropped grey hair. He wore a massive suit of armor and had a triangular shield strapped to one arm. "You may be crazier than I first assumed, yanking out a dagger from your side for a weapon. That was some stunt, but we appreciate the help. I don't know if you understand this, but one of the men you fought against was a suspected ringleader of this group. Can I assume, then, that you were also responsible for sabotaging their defensive weapons?"

"I…uhh…" He wasn't sure what this man, who he assumed to be the leader of the Plegian forces here, wanted. He seemed charming enough, but it could be a ruse. "Who…are you?"

"Pardon me, where are my manners! My name is Campari. Leader of the Royal Guard. We wouldn't normally be this far from the palace, but we'd heard some…unfortunate…rumors about this particular band. Well, they won't be troubling anyone anymore."

"Aiden," he said, extending his hand slowly. The man shook it, seeming not to react to the name at all. Good, perhaps Vanir really hadn't gotten that information very far. These Plegians had tied up that loose end very neatly. "Who...who was the one who saved me?"

"Ah, want to thank them? They're already gone, unfortunately. Some sorcerer who said you helped her fight." It had to be the woman he had seen casting those spells. "She and the rest of our Grimleal are already headed back to the palace." Ah, so she was Grimleal. Rather kind of her to take up healing, then.

"My equipment?" Aiden asked, slowly standing up. He still had his clothes, but he'd dropped his swords during the fight with Vanir. And he was slowly starting to wonder what had become of the package.

"We've got it here, don't worry," Campari gestured behind him, were Aiden's blades were resting on a piece of sackcloth. There was no package. "As for your stolen goods, I'm afraid I don't know what those would be. Aside from a few special items that the Crown has requisitioned, everything that survived the assault is still being sorted through. Let the quartermaster know what you're looking for; he'll help you out."

"Special items?" Aiden asked, hoping he wasn't treading into dangerous territory.

"Hell if I know," Campari responded, uncaring. "I'm not allowed to ask questions about it. Anything the king wants is long gone with the Grimleal, anyway."

Damn! It seemed like every time he was close to recovering his stolen goods they disappeared again. Aiden thanked Campari and checked in with the quartermaster. As he feared, there was no sign of his package. He did, however, manage to claim some foodstuffs recovered from the camp under the pretense that they were his "stolen" goods. After all, it wouldn't do well for this Campari to think that he was connected to what the Grimleal had taken, it seemed like he had yet more traveling to do. The next stop on his journey would be the Plegian Capital. It was less than ideal, but Aiden had gone too far to give up now.

* * *

_And the same goes for me. I apologize for the wait. Two months is kind of ridiculous to ask of you, I know. I'm sorry. But I assure you, I am far from dead. And I plan on finishing this story, even if it kills me._

_This chapter was somewhat…difficult, I think. Beyond the basic plot of "Shepherds find stuff, and kill it", I didn't have too much planned. I wanted character conversations, integration of the three new arrivals into the shepherds, and I had a basic idea for that, but not much else. I knew I wanted Vanir gone soon and Aiden headed towards the Plegian capital (for reasons that should be apparent if you've played the game), but again I wasn't quite sure how I'd do it. So this chapter was a generally hazy plan in my head. When I started it, I was on break. Then college came back with a vengeance. That didn't help. Combined with my naturally procrastinatory nature (I'm working on it), this chapter took far longer than it should have. I didn't think it'd even break 10000 words, but once again I surprised me. _

_Next chapter will be more of the same, but hopefully shorter. Aiden won't have too much going on, there'll be some more support conversations, and a fight with an old kid and a not-Russian. Not much else. As it is, I worry that an oncoming wall of assignments will stall my progress, but once that's done I should get quicker._

_Then comes the really fun stuff. I've got solid, planned out, and hopefully interesting plots in mind for the chapters after next. Things are going to start ramping up. Then, after 3 chapters of crazy, it's the interlude. Wow. Time sure flies._

_See you next time. Hopefully sooner than this last time. Please, review this at the very least. I've got one follower now (you know who you are, thank you for believing in me), but I'd like at the very least to get a sense of what other people think. Your input can only help, people. Please, just take a few moments to let your voices be heard._

_As usual, there will be author's note stuff to be found on my bio page, if you fancy a look behind the curtain. And assuming this gets up on time, happy Saint Patrick's Day, for those of you who care. _


	7. Chapter 7: Chance Meetings

_I do not own Fire Emblem or the various things held within, which belong to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. I am not profiting from this. I…kinda suck at legal disclaimers._

_Please note that, though this is slow in coming as usual, I have not been idle. Well, not ALL the time. I've actually updated Chapter 1 to make it seem less…hack-ish and to hopefully greet new readers with a more professional and intriguing first chapter, so that they don't decide right from the start to avoid this whole story._

_Anyway, onto the story._

* * *

The Feroxi Citadel had never been busier, but it felt empty. Everyone could tell that someone was missing. The life had been sucked right out of the Shepherds, who drifted about the grounds aimlessly, anxious for news from their homeland but unable to do anything to change their situation. The Khan had been incredibly hospitable to her guests, but nothing she could do could shake them out of their gloom. Martin marveled at how much the absence of just one person could change.

She wasn't even dead, at least not that they knew. If everything went well, then the Exalt was safe, either behind the walls of Ylisstol or leading Ylissean refugees to safety. At least, that was the hope. After her departure, the Shepherds had circled back on the trail and headed north with the Fire Emblem, as Emmeryn had requested of them. The rest of the wagon caravan had continued on to the Eastern Palace, meaning to prepare it for use by any refugees from Ylisstol. Without bandits, distrustful guards, or a diplomatic mission to slow them, and with a haste borne of worry, the Shepherds had reached Ragna Ferox in only four days. Emmeryn would have reached Ylisstol within two, though any word from her would take longer to reach Ragna Ferox. At best, Martin reasoned, any news would reach here before the end of today.

Which is why he found himself anxiously headed towards the main hall. If news did arrive, Martin wanted to know about it, even if it meant waiting there all day. It wasn't like he had much else to do.

He wasn't the only one who had decided to wait, though. A few of the Shepherds, as well as Prince Chrom himself, were chatting quietly throughout the room. The prince was leaning against the wall, lost in his thoughts. Lissa and Sumia were talking quietly amongst themselves. Robin, as usual, was poring over some strategy manual, while Khan Flavia sat at the far end of the room on her throne, dealing with matters of state. Shione was sitting in a corner, absorbed with cleaning his poleaxe.

"You have a minute?" Martin asked as he strode over. "We need to discuss some things." Hesitantly, Shione nodded, and followed Martin out into the hall.

"So," Martin began. "The pegasus Knights, huh?" Shione nodded. "Congratulations. Your dual employment might cause some problems in the future, but at least you're working with the rest of us for now."

"I already know what you're going to say, Martin." Shione shook his head. "Something about meddling with the events of this timeline too much, causing untold problems in the future. Lyta told me about the heirarch. But I couldn't just sit back and watch them die. You have to-" Martin held his hand up, cutting off what Shione had been about to say.

"I get it. I would have done the same thing, if I were you. We're in a unique position here, where what we know could change the world for the better." Martin's head drooped. "But we could also wind up changing it for the worse. We have to be aware of everything we do now. If we mess up enough, we might just wind up causing the death of everyone around us. What you did, no matter why you did it, will have consequences. The same goes for anything I do, anything Cainne does, anything Lyta does. From here on out, we have to try to minimize our effect on the timeline. If we, say, go out and save a squadron of pegasus knights who were about to die, we have to be prepared to deal with the consequences. I hate it, but this isn't something we can plan for. We just have to act as we see fit, hope for the best results possible, and act when things go sideways. So all I want to know is, are you ready for all of this?" Shione almost nodded, then snorted derisively.

"I didn't expect any of this." Shione said. "Who could? Traveling through time in order to stop an old friend turned thief, only to wind up alongside some of history's most prominent figures fighting a war for the survival of a nation? Nothing prepares you for that kind of thing. Nothing prepares you to kill another man…it's a lot different than fighting Risen. So am I ready for this? I don't know. Is anyone?"

"No, I don't think they are." Martin replied. "But I also don't think we have a choice, unless Aiden and our way home were to fall out of the sky in front of us." A few moments passed, and Shione sighed.

"So this is our life now?" He smiled ruefully.

"Yeah." Martin responded, getting up. "Might as well make the best of it."

* * *

"B-but she's safe inside the castle, right?" Damn. Now Lissa was upset. "Phila and the others will protect her! And Khan Flavia is assembling her best troops as we speak. We'll make it back home in time. I know we will!" All Chrom had wanted to do was to explain the situation as best as he could. Lissa was still young, and though she grasped the basics of Emmeryn's departure, she was still confused. Chrom wasn't honestly sure if he really understood the situation any better.

For the thousandth time, he silently cursed. He should have sent more soldiers with her! He should have gone! The Shepherds were doing no one any good here. Perhaps he could lead a group to the capital, make sure Emmeryn was- no, she wanted him here, with the Fire Emblem. Chrom knew it was important, but was he supposed to place more value on some piece of metal over his sister?

"Chrom? Say something! Say, 'Yes, of course we will!'" Lissa was still waiting on an answer. He'd gotten lost in his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Lissa. What?" He tried to sound as apologetic as he could. He hadn't meant to lose track of the conversation. It didn't work.

"Ugh, fine!" She yelled, throwing her hands down to her sides. "Never mind! Let me know when you get out of your own head for a second!" Chrom tried to call out, but she paid him no mind.

He couldn't afford the distraction anyway. Emmeryn was in danger, he knew it. If he didn't think of something, there was no telling what would happen. He'd already lost his parents, he wasn't going to lose the one person who'd taken their place.

"Snap out of it, Captain!" Wait, wha-

Pain. Intense pain. He was on the ground, and his face hurt. Sumia…Sumia had just attacked him?

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" he yelled, half from the pain and half from sheer surprise. Sumia suddenly seemed mortified.

"Oh no! ...Did I do it wrong?" Did she do what wrong, attacking him? "Captain Phila said sometimes a good slap will break someone out of their doldrums." She…oh, wow. To his right, Lissa broke out giggling. Martin, who of course had walked in just in time to see everything, nearly collapsed from laughing too hard. Frankly, Chrom almost broke into laughter himself himself. This was just too ridiculous. The shock of the situation had faded, along with most of the pain.

"Sumia, when you slap someone, you do it with an open palm." Lissa explained. "You just punched Chrom in the face!" Sumia's eyes widened.

"Umm…it's the thought that counts?" She squeaked out as she extended a hand to help him up. Chrom grabbed it, hauling himself up. His cheek was still sore, unfortunately.

"Gods, that seriously hurt…" he said, rubbing it with his palm. Though Martin and Lissa had already, laughter echoed through the room.

"Ha ha! What's wrong, my dear prince? Sometimes love hurts!" Khan Flavia exclaimed, striding towards the group. Wait, had she just said love? "You're lucky to have strong women like these, and not just dainty flowers about. In any case, I bring good news. The Feroxi army has finally mobilized. Every last man is itching to fight. I must say, I'm looking forward to savoring a skirmish or two myself."

"Wait, you're coming along?" While Chrom was glad that the Feroxi Army was mobilizing, he didn't want to put his staunchest ally into too much danger. If Flavia died in battle, Feroxi morale would plummet.

"Of course! A Khan must have her fun. I'm even bringing my insignificant other."

"Your who?" Robin inquired, joining the conversation.

"Basilio." Flavia responded. "The oaf isn't good for much, bet he might stop a few stray arrows." Flavia enjoyed joking at Basilio's expense, but it seemed to Chrom that there was still some respect there. He wondered if Basilio knew.

The sound of boots on cobblestone drew his attention. A runner, possibly many, moving at full speed towards the hall. Chrom turned to the doorway just in time to see the former Khan himself burst into the room, followed by an Ylissean Pegasus knight adorned in the armor of a captain. The knight was haggard, Basilio was clearly distressed. The jovial atmosphere that had appeared moments before dissipated.

"Chrom!" Basilio called out. "Gods, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Is something wrong?" the prince answered. Basilio's face darkened.

"Tell him what you told me." He turned to the pegasus knight.

"Prince Chrom," she said, bowing. "Captain Thaneta. I was responsible for maintaining the border until our outpost fell. I can see my message was received." She motioned towards Shione, now standing at attention, before continuing. "My troops helped to start the evacuation of Ylisstol. We were guiding the refugees out of the city when we encountered the Exalt and Captain Phila."

"Is she ok?" Chrom asked, forcefully. The knight did not respond.

"The Exalt insisted on returning to the city, in an attempt to persuade any who remained that it was in their best interest to leave. Unable to dissuade her, we left the refugees in the hands of the city guard and followed her to the city. The Plegians intercepted us en route."

One thought coursed through Chrom's mind. _Emmeryn_.

"The Exalt and her guard were taken captive. I alone was able to escape. The Plegians did not pursue."

"They already have what they wanted." Basilio reasoned.

"Or you were meant to deliver a message. To unwittingly lead us into a trap." Robin replied. Thaneta nodded.

"The Plegians have since retreated back across their border, leaving Ylisstol untouched," Basilio added "We can only assume the attack was a feint."

"And we played right into their hands!" Chrom cursed. "What of Emmeryn?"

"According to our scouts, she is to be executed within the moon," Basilio answered grimly.

"E-executed!?" Chrom gaped. Gods Damn the Plegians! To his side, Lissa paled. With a groan, she fell to the floor. Before he could react, Robin had already reached her side. At his calls, she woke, afraid but no worse for wear. Chrom's mind raced so that he barely heard the other's responses. He had to save her. He had to do something. No more sitting on his laurels doing nothing, Fire Emblem be damned!

Shepherds!" He called out. "We march to Plegia!"

"Er, yes, well, that would be one option." Basilio replied. "But perhaps we've seen enough royalty waltzing into traps for one war already, eh?" Chrom turned to him, determined but aware of Basilio's point.

"I don't care if it's a trap. He's going to murder my sister!"

"And we'll figure out some way to save her." Martin answered shaking his head. "But you'll do no one any good if you run off and get yourself killed. You and your sister seem to be alike in that respect."

"Exactly." Flavia said. "Breathe a moment. We'll need guts as well as wits in equal measure if we're going to save your sister."

"The Khans are right." Robin added. "I'll think of something, Chrom. I promise." Everyone was right. And he could trust Robin. Chrom nodded.

"All right, Robin. I leave it to you to formulate our strategy."

"Are you certain you're up to the task, Robin?" Flavia asked, turning to him. Her tone was concerned, not derogatory. "It won't be easy. You hold the Exalt's life in one hand, and all of ours in the other."

"A responsibility I do not take lightly," Robin replied, rising. "But I am equal to the challenge."

"I've seen none better at what he does," Martin added.

"Ha ha!" Flavia laughed boisterously. "You've got stones. I like that!"

"No hesitation, no mincing words…he's either a genius or a fool. I suppose we'll find out once we march. Hold on to your tassets, Ylisseans. We've an Exalt to save!"

With that, the impromptu war council dispersed, each meaning to prepare their own forces. Flavia and Basilio would lead the Feroxi troops into war against Plegia. Their army would be a match for the Plegians, but it would all be for naught if the Exalt was executed. Chrom left to prepare the Shepherds for their imminent departure.

With a strong force at their backs and a skilled tactician, they stood a chance at stopping Gangrel's plot. But all the while, Chrom wondered if it would be enough.

* * *

"I'm not going to pay that much for an iron lance. With the price you're asking, I could by myself a small castle." It was an exaggeration, but not by much.

"Well, what did you think I was going to do with the money?" Anna responded, smiling coyly. "But fine. Just for you, I'll lower the price. Don't say I've never done anything for you." She wrote down the new price, a significantly more reasonable number. She was, of course, just haggling. She didn't expect anyone to actually buy her goods for the initial price.

"Thank you," Cainne responded. "The Shepherds don't pay me enough to afford that kind of price." Anna nodded in sympathy, though Cainne knew that their standards for decent pay were wildly different.

Cainne, like every other member of the Shepherds, was paid a small amount for her labor that she could use however she wished. It wouldn't be enough to live on, but the Ylissean treasury also covered living expenses such as meals and housing, as long as she was sleeping in a tent or the barracks. Normally, Robin was also in charge of equipment and the associated fees, as well, but Cainne didn't want to put undue strain on their already diminished funds. Luckily, Anna was more than happy to provide extra equipment, for a price.

"You know," Anna mused as she watched Cainne test the balance of her new lance, "I expected you to be an easier sell, if you don't mind me saying so. You can bargain." Cainne twirled her weapon in her hand, and then slid it onto the sheath on her back. It wasn't as good as the one she had broken, but it would serve.

"I'm a Taguel, not an idiot," she responded. "Anyone with eyes could see that those prices are exorbitant." Anna almost said something, but bit off her comment at the last second. Cainne noticed. "You oversold something to Panne, didn't you?"

"First of all," Anna began indignantly, "for what she bought, my prices are entirely reasonable! Do you know how hard it is to find a supplier for magical stones?" Cainne did in fact know, but she let Anna continue. "And second, she doesn't use her wages anyway. That gold is better off with me than sitting disused and forgotten in her pocket. If she even has pockets…" Anna's expression became distant for a moment as she considered the possibility, and most likely if there was a market to be found there.

"I am aware how money works," Panne stated, cutting off her though process. "I grew up around humans, so it was inevitable." Anna stared at her, clearly wanting more information. Cainne shrugged. "My family traveled often, but there were also long periods where we'd stay in one place, for weather or convenience, essentially whenever it seemed like a good idea. Since we were…weren't exactly welcome in our own tribe, we'd often stay one remote village or another. I spent a good deal of my young life around humans as a result."

"Wow," Anna responded. "You never ran into trouble because of your heritage?"

"There was some," Caiine replied, "but it was usually nothing too serious, and we stayed in areas isolated enough that news didn't travel too well. If things were too bad, we simply moved on. But more often than not, people simply didn't care. We paid for what we needed, the farmers appreciated our assistance with hunting and keeping predators away from their livestock, and I got along well enough with the other children." Cainne smiled at the memory. "We didn't cause them any reason to look at us askance. Eventually I set off on my own and found myself running with a group of adventurers for hire, doing odd jobs here and there."

"What happened to them?" Anna asked. Cainne smiled.

"Last I heard, they were apparently helping some Ylissean royalty defend his homeland." Anna just rolled her eyes. "Anyway, that's how I know you were trying to rip me off. Well, that and your preferred price would have been the second most expensive thing I've ever bought."

"Second?" Anna asked, not even pretending to be offended at Cainne's accusations.

"Only slightly less expensive than my armor," Cainne responded, tapping one hand on a metal-clad shoulder. "I had to get this custom made. Because of cultural standards and the general ease of solving your problems by turning into a giant rabbit, I'm not sure if there is a Taguel around who knows how to work metal. But I decided I wanted more protection than a few bits of leather. Most human equipment doesn't handle transforming well, if at all. I had to find a sufficiently skilled armor smith, provide him with the time he needed to understand Taguel armor and the shape-changing process, and then ask him to modify a set of heavier armor in the same way. You can see how the costs build up. I saved up after a series of successful jobs and had known this man since I was a child, and I still wound up hunting for my meals and sleeping on the ground for the next few months."

And even then, the price Anna had been asking for was just barely cheaper. If Panne had indeed been tricked into buying a beaststone for Anna's initial price, Cainne pitied her.

"Anna, Cainne." Chrom greeted them, poking his head inside the wagon where Anna had set up her shop. "We're mobilizing. Pack up what you need and get ready to travel. We'll be headed for the desert, so prepare accordingly." Cainne nodded, watching as Anna was closed down her temporary storefront. The Taguel hopped off the wagon, striding into the sunlight, which seemed much brighter after having sent a few minutes in the dark.

"I think I understand, now." That voice stopped her in her tracks. Panne.

"What are you doing here?" Cainne asked, turning to face her. Panne was leaning against a wall, taking advantage of the shade it cast.

"I had intended to ask you about your strange mannerisms. But any questions I might have had were already answered." The Taguel cast a glance at her. Cainne couldn't be sure, but she thought it was disappointment.

"You were eavesdropping?" Cainne questioned, angered. She couldn't believe Panne's nerve.

"I meant to discuss my purchase with Anna. Despite what you all think, I am aware she cheated me." Cainne's cheeks flushed slightly with shame. But that feeling was quickly suppressed by anger. "But I have no need of man-spawn currency, nor do I need to be eavesdropping to overhear something." Right. Damned Taguel hearing.

"What's your point, then? What do you 'understand'?"

"Why you have turned your back on our kind." Panne stated matter-of-factly. Cainne's eyes widened in shock.

"Turned my back on our kind?" She echoed. Cainne couldn't understand what the other Taguel was saying.

"You strut about in a human perversion of traditional garb, using human weapons instead of your own natural gifts, and cavort with humans," Panne responded, growing angrier. "Does your own lineage, your own culture, mean nothing to you?" At this, something within Cainne snapped. A great many thing she had been holding back finally came surging forth.

"These are not the people who killed the Taguel!" She shot back. "The Shepherds have been nothing but welcoming to us, have been kind and sympathetic. But you repay their hospitality with isolation and anger. You accuse me of betraying my kind, but I'm not the one who has decided to let her race die off with her, isolated from everyone who might care! You make great claims about the Taguel, but they didn't take my family in, it was the humans. And if you could stop mistaking a few terrible individuals for an entire race, maybe you could see that!" At this, Cainne stormed off, full of anger and a little shame at her outburst. It would be best if no one talked to her for a good while, lest she tear their heads off.

* * *

Panne watched her go silently. Cainne was wrong, she knew that. Panne knew that the people around her were not to blame. She knew that avoiding them would accomplish nothing. But she had not done a good job of dispelling Cainne's suspicions.

It _had_ angered her to see Cainne parading about as if she were a human. Panne had spent her entire life trying to recall scraps of her culture, the life she would never know. So to see someone with so callous a disregard for their culture had seemed an insult to everything Panne had ever striven for. And, if she was to be honest, there may have been some disappointment that Cainne would not be the key to finding her people that Panne had hoped for.

But she should not have confronted Cainne in the manner that she had. In doing so, she had implied that she had a problem with Cainne following human culture, rather than failing to acknowledge Taguel culture, which in truth was nothing that Cainne could be held accountable for. Panne had let her temper get the better of her, and Cainne had responded in kind. She would apologize, eventually, if and when Cainne calmed. But before that…

Cainne had been right about one thing. Panne had isolated herself from the others. It hadn't been out of hatred so much as mistrust and perhaps fear, fear that they were just more people in her life that she could grow to trust and then lose in a moment. That ended today.

* * *

It had just occurred to Aiden that the town of Spine's End may have gotten its name for more than one reason. It was entirely possible that, at one point, the town may have been located not just the end of a mountain chain, but an actual spine. The great skeletons that were draped across the desert sand all around Plegia made this an actual possibility. Some said that they were the remains of dragons loyal to the empire that the great Hero King had brought low. Others said that they were the remnants of the Schism, when the first Exalt had struck down Grima and helped to found the nations of this continent. Some even said they were all part of one massive skeleton, the time-worn and broken bones of the Fell Dragon himself.

Looking upon the massive skull that the Plegian Capital had been built over, Aiden could believe it. The thing was massive, easily the size of the ornate palace that rose on the hill above it. Six holes, three on each side, stared out blankly where a normal creature would have its eyes. It was awe-inspiring and terrible, all at once. But whatever great creature had once possessed the skull was long dead, and its bones had been battered by the wind, sun, and sand. There was no great skeleton to be found matching the head, only a few scattered fragments of bleached white standing out against the yellow sands.

On the cliff behind the skull, the palace that housed Plegia's ruler sat, afforded a spectacular view of the surroundings by its positioning. Inside the skull's gaping maw was a city, the rest of the Plegian capital, using the great structure as shelter. All manner of buildings were clustered in the shade, and some were even built onto the inside of the skull itself. On the other side of the skull was a walled courtyard and a raised dias just outside of the skull, so that anyone there would appear to an audience to be framed by the massive jaws.

Next to the skull, a great pillar rose from the ground, arching out over the center of the courtyard. It took Aiden a few moments to realize that it, too, was a massive bone, perhaps a rib. Of the rest of the skeleton, there was nothing to be seen, but vague shapes in the mountains to the west hinted that there was indeed more.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Campari, the Plegian General, was almost beaming. "Such was the majesty of Grima before his disappearance a thousand years ago." Aiden noted that he had said disappearance, not death. It was probably a touchy subject. "The founders of the Grimleal faith decided to build here, that they could be closer to him. Now the throne of Plegia rests here, and it is my duty to guard it."

The Grimleal under Campari's command had taken the tome Aiden needed, so he had no choice but to follow them. Fortunately, his actions at the rebel camp had gotten him into Campari's good graces, and the general had no idea that the tome was Aiden's. Since he was bound for the capital, Campari had offered to let the swordsmaster travel with them, as thanks for his assistance in the siege. Aiden, not one to pass up on an opportunity, had accepted the Plegian general's offer. His stolen belongings would probably be stored in the palace, and what better way would there be to get in than to befriend the captain of the guard?

"A task not for those of weak will, I'm sure." Aiden said, responding to Campari. The general looked towards Aiden, and nodded.

"You've done your part, and I thank you for that. I recommend you stay in the city for some time. I hear there will be a celebration soon enough! It might be worth it to stay."

Aiden nodded, secretly worried. He would be staying here, that was certain. The tome was here, and he wouldn't be leaving until it did, whether he had it or not. But this celebration had strange timing. In the middle of a war? There weren't many things Aiden could imagine the Plegians would have cause to celebrate about, and none of them were possibilities he wanted to contemplate.

"A celebration? In the middle of a war?" Aiden asked, voicing his concerns. Campari grinned.

"From what I hear, there won't be a war for much longer. Our forces drove into Ylisstol and captured their leader. We'll be celebrating the end of the war and our victory, most likely!"

The Exalt's execution. That had to be what Campari meant. After that, the war would end, one way or the other. And Aiden would be right in the center of it all.

* * *

Robin was starting to regret wearing a black cloak in the middle of the desert. The dark fabric was not doing him any favors as he walked under a merciless sun. It had been almost 5 days since they had left Ragna Ferox, and he hadn't yet acclimated to the very sudden shift in climate. It would have been more convenient to travel at night, but Chrom wanted to reach the Plegian capital as quickly as possible.

But it could have been worse. Strangely enough, Robin felt much more comfortable than he would have expected, even here. Perhaps he had spent some time in the desert before he had lost his memory. It was quickly becoming apparent that some of the other Shepherds had not.

Lon'qu, having spent much of his life in frigid Ragna Ferox, had retreated inside one of the wagons, unwilling to deal with the heat for longer than he had to. Shione had jumped at the chance to keep watch overhead, if only to put some distance between himself and the warm sand. Despite his stoic demeanor, Kellam was sweating underneath his heavy plate, or at least he had seemed to be the one time Robin had seen him.

On the other hand, many of the Shepherds were handling the heat incredibly well. The mages, with their light clothing, were both cool and mobile in the desert sand. Vaike, as shirtless as ever, seemed to enjoy this weather even more than the temperate climate in Ylisse. Panne, as well, was having no difficulty with the heat. Even Donnel was more energetic than usual, keeping pace with the other Shepherds easily and staying cool under his strange hat.

Speaking of Donnel, he and Kellam were getting along well. Robn had usually deployed them together, so that the knight could teach Donnel the ropes while also keeping him safe. As a result, they had formed a sort of camaraderie. Robin was glad the farm boy had found a friend among the Shepherds, and proud at how well he was handling himself.

He wasn't the only one to have found companionship in this strange group. Chrom and Sumia were getting along as well as ever, not that Robin was surprised. Ricken, too, had decided to make friends with royalty, though Robin suspected his friendship with Lissa was based, at least in part, on the fact that she was one of the only two members of the Shepherds around the same age. Stahl was apparently helping Miriel out with her research, though Robin hadn't understood a word of her explanation when he'd asked. Cordelia was having some success in showing Sumia and Shione the basics of how to be a pegasus knight, but judging by what Robin had already seen them do, they didn't have much left to learn. Robin himself had finally had some progress restraining Vaike before Sully's horse destroyed them all in a bloody rampage. And after conversing with Stahl, he'd decided to take up one of the most valuable and sought after skills in this army: cooking.

Of course, not everything was quite so cheery. Emmeryn's capture loomed over them all. Robin was still trying to formulate a rescue plan, but at this point, it all depended on what the enemy did next. And what the enemy did next could not be planned around. Had someone sane been planning what the Plegians did next, Robin would have had something to plan around. In fact, had someone sane been planning for the Plegians, this whole situation would have been different. Had Robin been on the opposing side, he would have hunkered down at Ylisstol when he captured it. He would have had the enemy's capital and their ruler. The war would have been essentially won. If the Fire Emblem was an objective, it would have come to him soon enough.

But Robin wasn't the enemy's tactician. The one who controlled the enemy's forces was called the Mad King, and not without cause. Robin had no idea what he would do next. He might wish to prolong the war. He might want to torment the Ylisseans. He might have had an entirely tactically sound reason to abandon Ylisstol. Robin didn't know. All he could be sure of was that Gangrel wanted the Fire Emblem, and that he bore a grudge against Ylisse. He wanted to hurt them, not win. Robin wasn't even sure that, should it come to pass that Chrom gave the Emblem to Gangrel, that the Mad King would follow through with the bargain. So Robin had to come up with a plan, and a good one. The fate of a nation and its people hung in the balance.

Up ahead, a signal from Chrom brought the group to a halt. Their convoy was a lot smaller than the one that had left for the Eastern Palace. The only people here were the Shepherds, or those who would be Shepherds. The Feroxi army, led by the Khans, was marching towards their north. While the Feroxi army tried to distract the Plegian forces, the Shepherds would rescue Emmeryn. Then, assuming everything went to plan, the Khans would cover their escape all the way back to Ylisstol. From there, the hope was to strike back at the now weakened Mad King. Robin was responsible for what happened in between. But judging from Chrom's expression, they had more pressing concerns.

"I'd like to believe it's our cunning that got us this far without being spotted," Chrom whispered, "but we've seen far too little of the Plegian Guard. Where are they? Whatever trap Gangrel has planned, he is in no hurry to spring it." Robin nodded. They had seen almost no sign of anyone on the journey here, and though they had been quiet, there were limits to how stealthy their group could be. That they had traveled so far into enemy territory unopposed for so long was…troubling.

It was at this moment that Frederick, as timely as ever, decided to make his entrance, as composed as ever and seemingly unfazed by the heat. However, his words were graven and serious.

"Milord, our scouts report some manner of engagement downfield." Chrom nodded.

"Understood." He turned to Robin. "Get everyone ready to move." As Robin made to prepare the Shepherds, Frederick spoke up.

"These desert sands are certain to bog us down, milord. Only mages and fliers will likely be able to proceed unhindered." That complicated things for Robin, and by extension everyone else. And what sort of tactician was he for not considering it in the first place?

"Good point," Chrom responded. "I'll keep it in mind. Robin, let's discuss strategy."

* * *

"Alright, everyone, listen up." Robin began. "We're going to mix things up a bit for this. We've got unknown factions engaging each other further to the south, and they just happen to be in our way. Normally, since the threat is unknown, I'd send those of us who are prepared to defend themselves first, but with the sandy terrain, they'd get there around the time everyone else had already wrapped up and started eating dinner. So, for all of you mages out there who've ever wanted to go literally toe to toe with the enemy, today is your lucky day." There were some low, worried murmurs at this. Robin shrugged.

"Don't worry, I'm not actually that insane, though our mages will be in the front lines this time. Luckily, we've got three pegasus knights on our side, and they've got better mobility than the rest of us. I'm going to take a page from Sumia's book and have the three of you carry some of our tougher troops on the backs of your pegasi. Now, I'm aware that'll leave you as larger, slower targets than you'd like, so the mage's responsibilities are to eliminate enemy archers and magic users, should they appear. Once they've dropped off their friends into the fight, the pegasus knights will circle around to our flanks and intervene if the enemy gets too close to our mages, while the people they drop off will do what they usually do. The rest of us will do our best to get through the sand and bring up the rear. Any questions?" There were none, and a few nods of affirmation told Robin his message had been received.

"Alright, let's get to it. Miriel and Ricken, you're up first. Cover each other, and feel free to back up if you need to. The sand won't be helping the enemy, either. Sumia, you'll be carrying Chrom, since you two seem to have experience with it." Robin was surpised to see Cordelia suppress a sigh at this. "Cordelia, you'll be ferrying Martin. And Shione, you're with Vaike. Cavalry, try as best as you can to get to solid ground and get there quickly. Archers, take advantage of your range to try and support the mages. Those of you who can transform into giant beasts, try and support the flanks. I'm hoping you're slightly more adept at navigating the terrain than the rest of us. As for everyone else, you're with me. Just try to keep up."

* * *

Chrom hung Falchion at his side and approached Sumia, already astride her mount. Nearby, the other riders were preparing. They'd be responsible for ascertaining just what was going on to the south. But as Chrom looked, the engagement seemed closer. In fact, he could even make out a few individuals…

"Augh! Get away! Everyone just leave me _alone_!" The voice that rand out over the desert was that of a child, and one who was distressed at that. Chrom took a closer look. He could see a smaller figure, yes, with pale hair and a cape. Behind her was a taller figure, dressed like a mercenary. He held out his hands to the girl, as if he were trying to quiet her. She was having none of it.

"My throat is dry, my shoes are full of sand, and some big weirdo is trying to _kill me_!" At this, the larger figure buried his face in his hands, but kept approaching. If she could be heard from here…

"You there!" Chrom called out. The man looked up. "Fiend! Keep your hands off that maiden!" To his side, Sumia raised her lance. For emphasis. The man paused to think for just a second, and then his eyes widened with shock.

"You mean Gregor? No, Friend! You have idea wrong!"

"Yeah, right!" Lissa joined in the shouting match. "Creep!" The man, seemingly hurt, raised his hands to the sky before clutching his forehead.

"Listen, friend!" He called out. "Gregor only want to-"

"Gotcha, you slippery scamp!" The black-cloaked figure exclaimed as he crested a sand dune further behind the two squabbling figures. He, too, joined in the shouting match, yelling "Prepare for a dose of Grima's wrath!" Chrom couldn't be sure about this Gregor's intentions, but this newcomer didn't sound like a good guy.

"Oy, this is most terrible!" Gregor exclaimed, making an effort to trudge toward the girl who stayed just out of his reach.

"Why are you all after the girl?" Chrom called out. Gregor paused a moment.

"All?" he replied. "What is this 'all'? Gregor is not one of 'all'! Look close! Maybe you not see from so far? Gregor have innocent baby face!" At this he showed his face to the sunlight and grinned. Chrom almost had to back up a step. To his side, Lissa, Sumia, and Robin, who had come to see what the shouting was about, grimaced.

"Well…"

"Yeah, not sure "innocent baby" is how I'd describe it," Robin whispered.

"Gah!" The man shouted, seeing his statement was getting nowhere. "Gregor is not enemy! You must believe!" Robin shrugged. Chrom closed his eyes for a moment.

"This is making my head hurt." He finally said. "We'll sort him out later. Right now, we need to protect the girl."

"Y-you're going to help me?" the girl asked, shocked. Chrom hadn't shouted, so the fact that she had heard him from such a distance was surprising. The prince responded quickly, however.

"We'll do everything in our power to keep you safe. Just hold on until we can reach you, and we'll drive them off!" With that, Robin gestured, and the Shepherds took their positions, as planned. Before Chrom climbed into the saddle, he looked to Robin.

"There are a few small settlements to the south. We need to warn them of the danger here, if you can find the time." Robin nodded, and with a gust of wind, Sumia and Chrom took to the air. Robin, stuck in the rear of the force for now, decided he'd devote his time to trying to warn the villages. The only other thing he could do right now was hope that his plan worked, and that he could make it in time if things fell through.

* * *

Martin watched from above as his Ylissean comrades crossed the dunes. Far to the front were Miriel and Ricken, their light clothing providing no difficulty as they crossed the sands. They were supposed to engage the enemy before the pegasi could land, so for now all he could do was wait. Approaching from the opposite direction were Plegian forces. Many were dark mages, taking advantage of their mobility in much the same way as the Ylissean mages. Right in the middle of it all were the two strange figures, struggling to reach the Ylissean forces before their pursuers reached them.

A few moments, the spellcasters on either side could see each other. Then the fireworks began. Fire, lightning, and wind magic burst out across the dunes, interspersed occasionally with dark magic attacks from some of the more skilled enemy casters. Though there were only two Ylissean mages, there were only a few more enemies present, and Miriel and Ricken were holding their own.

The same could not be said of the two strangers. They had not been attacked yet, but a small band of dark mages were approaching quickly. At this rate, they would catch Gregor and the young one before thy reached the Ylisseans.

"Set me down there!" Martin shouted. "I'll help them out!"

Cordelia banked her mount into a downward spiral. With the rest of the enemy forces either distracted or too far back to make a difference, Cordelia met no resistance as she landed, directly between the enemy mages and the two strangers. Martin hopped off quickly, aware that the pegasus knight did not want to spend any more time than was necessary on the ground. Cordelia circled off into the sky, sticking to her part of the plan. Chrom and Sumia set down slightly to the south. It seemed, conveniently enough, that the Ylissean front lines would be right where Martin needed to be to stop Gregor's pursuers. Shione was nowhere to be seen, unfortunately, but Martin knew he could take care of himself.

As Chrom, Sumia, and Cordelia set to work clearing out the enemy forces and helping Miriel and Ricken, the three mages chasing the strangers approached. As they crested the hill and saw him, they stopped. Martin drew his sword.

He was prepared for the bolt of dark energy that was cast at him. He was not prepared to see the other two mages sprint past him, much more determined to catch the girl than he had expected. Damn it! Martin wouldn't be able to stop them, not in the desert, and especially not while their friend was still trying to kill him. Martin gripped his sword tightly and charged at the remaining spellcaster.

* * *

Frederick scowled as his mount slowly crossed the sands. He should be on the front lines, with his lord, not stuck back here! But the elements conspired against him, and his horse could go no faster on this uneven terrain, nor could he make much progress on foot with his armor slowing him down. It was not that he did not trust Sumia, but it was his sworn duty to protect Prince Chrom and the rest of the Ylissean Royal House. It was his life's work, and the noble goal to which all in his family had aspired to. He had to be by Prince Chrom's side!

Frederick was so preoccupied by his plight that he almost missed the Plegian dark mage sneaking up on him. He barely noticed at the last second as a lightning bolt was launched at him, and ducked as it passed right over his head. Frederick could feel a few of the hairs on his head singe as it passed. The knight knew that his armor wouldn't protect him from a magical attack such as that.

He yanked his horse to the side, turning to face the enemy mage. He leveled his lance and charged forward, but the sand was slowing his progress. By the time he reached the mage, they'd have cast another spell. He pulled back on the reins and covered his face as yellow runes and energy swirled around the mage.

The great form of a Taguel landed on the spellcaster, cutting the attack off. Frederick paused for a moment, making sure that he was in fact safe.

"Frederick. Are you well?"

"Panne." The knight swallowed. He was filled with a sudden unease, but he suppressed it. "I am fine. Thank you." The Taguel bounded off, and the knight frowned. For a moment, he contemplated the strange unease, perhaps even fear, that he had felt looking at his own ally, but then shook his head. There was a battle to be won, and Prince Chrom needed him. Getting lost in his head had almost doomed him once already, he needed to stay focused. Frederick spurred his mount towards where he knew his liege to be, determined to do all he could to protect him.

* * *

The villages had been warned, courtesy of Sully and Stahl, but the fight wasn't quite over yet. Robin was pleased to see that his plan was working, at the least. The Shepherds he had been with had finally arrived at the front lines, only to find that Chrom, the mages, and the pegasus knights had managed to shatter the enemy's forces. The enemy's commander was still on the field somewhere, and he would need to be taken care of. But aside from that, all that was left was to mop up whatever remained of the enemy.

Robin had left that to the others. Right now he and Chrom were responsible for accomplishing their secondary objective: finding the strange man and little girl that had arrived with the Plegians in tow. They'd disappeared sometime during the fight, and apparently Martin had gone after them. Chrom said that they had been retreating towards the rear, where Robin and the others should have seen them, but they never arrived. Robin assumed their course had been diverted at some point, or worse, that they had been captured. Now he and Chrom had to find them, as well as the missing tactician that had followed them.

It shouldn't have been this difficult to find someone in terrain as open as this. But endless sand dunes and rocky outcroppings were deceptively capable at hiding anything, or anyone, from view. Adding to their problem was that, at least around here, everything looked the same. It would be all too difficult to get lost. Further south were the towns and a small oasis that made navigation easier, but around here there was only sand and stone.

"Gods, what must it be like to live out here?" Chrom mused. "The Plegians are a hardy people."

"Indeed. It is a shame that war divides our people." Robin added. "Both nations have suffered enough hardship as it is."

"We can wish all we like, but it changes nothing. Gangrel took my sister. As much as you or I may desire peace, our nations have been enemies for longer than even I know. It stretches back to their founding. Even the gods we worship have always been enemies. Even if we were to propose a peace, a lasting one, I doubt that the Plegians would accept it…" Chrom trailed off, noticing as he lost Robin's attention. "What?"

"I think I hear something. Over that next dune!"

Robin and Chrom took off into a run, climbing over the hill as quickly as they could. Sure enough, Robin had been correct. The dune sloped sharply down, and in the trough was quite the scene. A pair of dark mages had the girl and strange man surrounded. Robin and Chrom found themselves staring at Martin, who himself had just climbed over the dune opposite them. The reason for the delay was obvious: though he was walking, it was with a pronounced limp. He must have been wounded while fighting.

More troubling was the situation with the two strangers. The man, Gregor, had his sword out and was using it to keep the mages at bay, while the young girl, dressed in a strange outfit of scales and cloth, knelt behind him, an expression somewhere between fear and confusion on her face.

Then the dark mages attacked, in unison. Robin noticed that Chrom was already moving, trying to get down the hill, but he wasn't quick enough. One cast a spell at Gregor, who barely evaded the dark magic's grasp. The other went for the girl, trying to grab her. She ducked the grapple and rolled out of the way, and Robin watched as her expression grew dark with anger.

"Get away from me!" She screamed at an earsplitting volume, and Robin watched in amazement as a glowing cocoon, like the petals of a flower, surrounded her. They burst with a flash, Chrom gasped as a great dragon burst forth. It was magnificent, larger than a horse and literally shining with an inner light. The creature roared at the mages, who took a step back in fear. Then an orb of blue fire appeared in its maw and was launched at the mage who had tried to grab the girl. The man was felled almost instantly, while Gregor took advantage of the distraction to kill his attacker. The dragon's form seemed to dissolve, and the little girl reappeared, landing on her feet.

"What in blazes?" Robin asked, stunned and more than slightly confused. "That…that girl is a dragon!"

"By gods, she's a manakete…" Chrom said with reverence. "I never thought I'd see one."

Martin's eyes widened, but he seemed surprisingly nonchalant. Robin shot him a pointed glance, amazed that he could be so calm at such a strange sight.

"One of my best friends turns into a giant bunny," Martin said, answering the unspoken question. "I've long ago accepted that my life is weird." Robin just shook his head before returning his attention to the girl.

"Perhaps she doesn't need our help as much as we could use hers…"

* * *

"Left!" Vaike called out. Shione looked around and pulled the reins to the right. The blade of wind magic soared harmlessly by, but far too close for comfort.

"When you say left, do you mean to _turn _left or to _watch _left?" Shione almost yelled. He and Vaike were, to put it mildly, in a great deal of trouble. They'd been separated from the others, completely botched their part of Robin's plan, and were now being chased around the sky by a mage that was all too competent at using wind spells. To make matters worse, Shione was stuck with Vaike.

"Just get to the ground and let ol' Teach at 'em!" Vaike boasted. He'd been pursuing this particular thought since they'd fallen under attack and cut off. Shione had tried to tell him that landing in a way that prevented them from being shredded by wind spells in moments was practically impossible, but the fighter didn't seem to care. Shione just barely pulled on the reins in time to avoid flying right into another blade of wind. And to make matters worse…

"Have ya ever considered fighting differently? I could help. They call me Teach for a reason, ya know!" To make matters worse, Vaike apparently thought this was a good time to question his fighting style.

"Do you really think this is the best time?" Shione yelled.

"I'm just thinking about your future. Don't you ever worry about what people might think?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin'," Vaike responded. "Just with your axe skills, I thought you'd make a good fighter, like ol' Teach! As it is, your fighting style is a little…girly, don't you think?"

"Vaike," Shione would have turned, had he not been focused on surviving, "have you seen how the women in this army fight? That's a compliment!"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just- to the right!" Shione pulled Anem away, and the magic soared harmlessly past.

"Gods, I am getting tired of him!" Shione yelled. But he couldn't get close enough to do any damage with his axe, not without flying into a small tempest.

"Hang on!" Vaike said after a second. "I've got an idea."

* * *

Chalard was not having a good day. While every other Grimleal in Plegia had been pulled back to the capital, he and his men were responsible for tracking down a very valuable rogue slave. It should have been simple, even if the girl was a Manakete. But then a sellsword had turned on them, they'd ran headlong into a skilled and well-armed band of Ylisseans, the girl had finally decided to use her race's destructive potential, and now most of his men were dead or scattered. And to make matters worse, he had sand in his shoes! At least bringing down the pegasus rider would be satisfying. They wouldn't last long, especially if they maintained their course directly towards him.

"You dare defy Grima, god of- Augh!"

Chalard's day was decidedly worsened when two hundred pounds of fighter were airdropped via pegasus directly onto him. In fact, he was certain he had heard quite a few things break. Grima take this whole damn mission…

"Master Grima… my life force… is-"

"That's right!" Vaike yelled, cutting off the mage with his axe. "That's how the Vaike makes an entrance!"

* * *

It was not long before the rest of the Plegian forces in the area had fled the battlefield.

Robin was not experienced in dealing with young, emotionally damaged individuals. It wasn't even that he really was uncomfortable around those who were distressed, so long as they were close to his age. But sobbing children-dragons….that was a new one.

"This is just the worst. Day. Ever!" the child-dragon in question wailed. Gregor had been kind enough to inform the tactician of her name, which was Nowi. Now he just had to figure out what to do with her. She'd be a valuable ally, but Robin had no desire to put an emotionally distressed young one into combat.

"How now, wee one! Do not make with the crying of tears." Gregor told her as they walked. Despite his grizzled appearance, he seemed to be a very kind individual, and somehow seemed like he knew what he was doing even now. "The evil people are now dead people. This is good, no?"

"Yeah," Martin added. "Any day where we turn evil people into dead people without becoming dead people ourselves is good in my book." Robin shot him a pointed glance, but Nowi had apparently not noticed. She sniffled, and turned to the mercenary.

"You... you're right. Th-thank you. And... I'm sorry I was so mean to you earlier. I just get nervous around people who are...outside my age group." She was calming down, and even if she wasn't exactly happy, she was no longer crying. Robin silently thanked the old man.

"Your age group? Ha! Gregor much closer to your age than others here!" This, surprisingly, made the little girl giggle. As she did, Chrom approached, Lissa in tow so she could deal with any wounds incurred during the fighting.

"Say, um...Gregor, was it?" The prince asked. "Gregor, do you mind looking after her? We need to press on." Gregor mulled it over.

"Gregor is mercenary, yes? Maybe you hire Gregor instead." He replied. "True, Gregor just finish killing former employers, but still very reliable! So long as you not try to hurt little girl, Gregor will not hurt you. Also, Gregor need steady income... many angry former employers." Chrom turned to Robin, who, seeing an opportunity, nodded.

"You're a sellsword?" Chrom asked, to be sure.

"Yes! Very swell sword! Cost performance very high. You have Gregor's word."

"Sure," the prince replied with a rueful grin. "Why not? You're hired"

"But! But what about me?" Nowi interjected, again on the verge of being upset. "I won't go back on the auction block!

"Wait," Lissa said. "You've been sold? Like a slave?" Suddenly, it all made sense. This girl had been through a lot, and she was worried about her safety and her future. Robin could sympathize.

"To men more despicable than you can possibly imagine." Nowi responded. "They made me transform for them... they drank and laughed and called out tricks..." she trailed off.

"What kind of scumbags buy and sell a little girl? Even if she can turn into a dragon..." Lissa was livid, perhaps because her age made her better able to sympathize with Nowi. As if on cue, Frederick dispelled that thought.

"She may be little, milady, but not nearly so young as you might think." The stoic knight added, appearing behind his master suddenly. Where he had come from, Robin had no idea, and though he seemed somewhat battered, he did not seem to care. "Manaketes live a very long time."

"Really?" Lissa asked, eyes wide. "How old are you?" Robin momentarily questioned if it was wise asking a dragon about her age.

"Oh, I dunno," Nowi responded, uncaring. "A thousand something? But look, no wrinkles!" For someone so old, she seemed very child-like and innocent. For not the first time that day, Robin was confused.

"Wish I'd look like that at your age," Martin added offhandedly.

"The dragonkin are said to be more resilient than men. Nowi would make a strong ally." Frederick stated. Right, that was what Robin had been hoping for after seeing her in combat. "Besides, we cannot risk her falling back into the hands of the Grimleal."

"Beg pardon," Robin had to ask, "But who are the Grimleal?"

"Followers of the fell dragon, Grima." Frederick replied. "The selfsame dragon the first exalt defeated a thousand years ago. Even today there are some who yearn for the fiend's return." What was it about today and dragons? But at the same time, there was something troubling about Frederick's words, something at the back of Robin's mind that he couldn't quite draw forth.

"Not the nicest people," Martin added. "I'm pretty sure the same guys were responsible for that assassination attempt we foiled."

"And yet you still wear their garments." Frederick replied curtly.

"They may be evil, but you can't fault their fashion sense." Martin responded. "As I am sure our tactician can tell you, these are very nice coats." And that was perhaps even more troubling to Robin. Martin had taken his outfit from a fallen enemy so he could infiltrate their ranks, but Robin could not place the origin of his own distinctive cloak. It was troubling.

"Well, should we get some rest?" Chrom inquired, cutting off further thought. "Today's been eventful, but we're almost at the Plegian capital. We'll need all our strength."

The Grimleal question could wait. Robin had a plan to make. But as he sat with the others that night, the atmosphere seemed almost jovial. He was tempted to agree with it, despite the dire nature of their mission. They had two armies and a group of battle-tested soldiers who were all willing to do their part. As Gregor laughed and joked with his new comrades, Robin considered their newest members. With the sellsword and a dragon on their side and a country resting in the balance, how could they fail?

* * *

_Tune in next time to find out!_

_Another chapter, another personal deadline I failed to meet. Frankly, if it wasn't for Elder Scrolls Online having absolutely terrible servers, I wouldn't have finished the draft of this when I did. If all goes well, this will be revised and posted before I leave on vacation. Because apparently deadlines like "by June 1__st__" don't work for me, but "before it's physically impossible" do. _

_This chapter is a bit shorter than the last few, but I'm glad it's done. Now I get to move on. Since the events in the game at this point were relatively insignificant, I've been using these chapters more to flesh out characters than anything chapters I think will be fun, due to the fact that they're plot relevant…among other things. Those of you familiar with the games know what events I mean, and for those of you who aren't…go play the games, or read the wiki, or something! Just because I include most of the base text in this story doesn't mean that I'm your scapegoat!_

_As always I desperately crave reviews and feedback. Author's notes will be updated soon after this is uploaded, and probably will be done by the time you the readers have finished this._

_Thanks!_


	8. Chapter 8: The Fall

_So, this was really, really late. This time, it wasn't solely because of my poor work ethic. At the very beginning of September, when I planned on finishing this chapter, I went back to school. And then my laptop broke. So I just spent a month fixing it, during which I tried to work on this via the notes app on my phone. But I couldn't post this chapter or anything. So now I have my laptop back, and just have to touch the chapter up, and then you'll be reading it (and this). And guess who just got sick? Nevertheless, I'll power through it. Now, what I had originally written:_

_Hello everyone. Welcome back to those of you who've been keeping up with this story (and thanks, those who've recently favorited or followed! I appreciate it), and hello to those of you who are new here. If that's the case, nice to meet you, I hope you've enjoyed the story so far._

_Unlike what I usually do, there will be no author's notes update following this chapter. This is because the next few chapters, though important (and probably long) enough to warrant their own chapters, events are somewhat tied together, and so I will not be discussing what occurs in each as I usually do until things wrap up a bit… assuming I can actually finish those chapters before the sun dies and takes the Earth with it. _

_Before we delve into the chapter, though, I'd like to provide thanks to the individual who read through the story and provided almost chapter-by-chapter feedback. It is greatly appreciated, and at the time of this writing, they're the first person who's reviewed since I posted chapter one. _

_And so we go._

* * *

"That's three for me!" Martin called out, cutting down the Risen in its tracks.

"Three what? Chrom replied. They had been marching towards the Plegian capital city when they'd stumbled upon a roving pack of Risen. The undead would be a good warm-up before they reached the Capital.

"Three more Risen put down!" the tactician replied. Chrom's confusion must have shown, because he added "I keep track of the Risen I kill. Then I see who eliminated more by the end of the fight. It's sort of a game I play. And the world becomes a bit nicer with each one killed."

"And here I thought it was something important," Chrom snorted. "Do you take anything seriously?"

"Oh, make no mistake," Martin answered. "I am well aware of the severity of the situation. But dwelling on it too much isn't going to help much. So I laugh at life's problems. It helps take the edge off things. You might want to try it sometime, because stern determination and frowns get old after a while."

"I appreciate the advice," Chrom replied, "but I'm responsible for my troops. I have to stand strong for them. The 'stern determination' is for their benefit."

"True enough, but I had to help lead the small, merry band that you now command. I know that everyone who's looking up to you for leadership will feed off your emotion, so it pays off to be cheerful every now and then. Let people laugh while they're risking their lives for the greater good."

"There'll be time to enjoy ourselves soon, Martin." Chrom stated. "But I can't forget what's at stake here, not for a moment. Emmeryn is counting on me, and I can't fail her. Let's save my sister, and then we can discuss leadership techniques."

"Suit yourself," Martin shrugged. "More Risen for me."

* * *

As seemed to be the pattern now, the Shepherds were in total control of the air. These Risen didn't have anything that could even fly, let alone contend with the Ylissean pegasus knights. That still left arrows and wind magic to worry about, but the undead seemed to be poorly prepared in both categories.

In other words, Shione was almost bored.

Ostensibly, Shione was responsible for keeping an eye on the Shepherds and exploiting any weaknesses in the enemy's formation. But the Shepherds were doing well enough on their own and the enemy didn't have a formation. It was less of a skirmish and more of a slaughter. Anything he could have contributed was already being handled by Cordelia or Sumia, who were also on the field. So the young pegasus knight was currently hovering high over the battlefield, with a bird's eye view of the whole thing but nothing to actually contribute.

Speaking of his comrades in arms, he had a good view of both of them, far below. Sumia was hovering not too far away from Chrom and Martin, and Cordelia…well, even from here, Shione could tell she had just sighed. Or, more likely, said the word "sigh". She hadn't been among the Shepherds for long, but rumors had already started to spread. Everyone knew she was head-over-heels for Chrom, everyone except perhaps for Chrom himself. Even though she thought she was very discreet, an illusion no one wanted to shatter, Cordelia's affection for the prince was incredibly obvious.

Less obvious was the fact that Sumia also had feelings for Chrom, though the signs were still there. Shione had expected nothing less; they fought well together and enjoyed each other's company. He was just worried about the results if the two pegasus knights, apparently good friends, realized they were vying for the same prize. It had the potential to be very ugly.

Some commotion on the ground drew his attention. More Risen, seemingly out of nowhere. Some of the Shepherds were moving to intercept the undead, but they were outnumbered. In other words, Shione finally had something to do. He brought Anem into a shallow descent, angling towards the enemy. He wasn't the only one to notice, as Lon'qu turned to face the new arrivals and Maribelle spurred her horse into a gallop to make up for the distance between them.

Shione was the first to arrive, naturally, so he struck first. The point on the end of his axe wasn't the deadliest weapon, but it worked well enough when it had the force of a diving pegasus behind it. The Pegasus Knight charged the enemy like an airborne jouster, piercing right through his victim's armor as he flew by, just inches above the ground. He felt the shock from the impact and knew the Risen wouldn't be getting back up.

Lon'qu was next to jump into the fight. He charged at a Risen soldier, ducking underneath their clumsy swipe as he turned his momentum into power behind his swing. He struck the Risen across the body as he rose up. By the time it fell to the ground, already dissolving into smoke, the Myrmidon was already moving to face his next target. He lunged at the monster, who took the strike as if it were nothing. But Lon'qu did not relent, sweeping its legs from under it before striking the now prone foe down.

The last of the Risen pack seemed almost to appear out of nowhere, intent on cutting down the swordsman. Lon'qu barely had time to turn and face the enemy, his arms raised, before he was struck. The axe cut deep into his forearm, driving him back. Shione, stunned by the sudden assault, spurred Anem into a gallop, but knew he would not make it in time. Lon'qu was clearly in pain, but did not cry out. Instead, he gritted his teeth and kicked at the Risen's side, followed to a vicious hook towards the creature's face. The monster stumbled back, but it was clear that it would take more to down the inhumanly durable Risen. It could not take advantage of Lon'qu's injury, however, as a timely lightning bolt from Maribelle ended its life. She halted her mount near her injured comrade-in-arms, already working furiously to patch up the wound before it could disable Lon'qu.

Shione could tell she was furious, but whether it was directed at the Risen or Lon'qu, who acted distant and aloof towards her even now, he couldn't tell.

"How is he?" The pegasus knight asked as he sauntered over. Maribelle acknowledged his presence with a nod.

"The oaf will live, for now. Though if he continues to go charging off into enemy formations and running scared from the only people in this army who can save him from such injuries as he inevitably occurs, then I cannot guarantee his safety for long." Lon'qu did not react to Maribelle's barb. Fortunately for the injured swordsman, it seemed the Shepherds had killed or driven off the Risen in the area, and as such, would have time to recover. Unfortunately for him, that meant more time at the mercy of the surprisingly vicious troubadour.

* * *

"So, Captain, let me be certain I understand your report." Aversa spoke slowly, her expression unreadable to most. But not him. He knew what was coming. "Not only did you NOT confirm that the Ylissean party carries the Fire Emblem... But you can't be certain Prince Chrom is even among them?" She was angry now. This would be good. "Is that the gist of it?"

"Y-yes, milady! The air was thick with sand—even their number was difficult to ascertain." The man's voice trembled with fear as he stammered out his excuse.

"Perhaps if you had gotten closer, Captain," the man'a confusion showed as Aversa's tone turned even more suggestive than usual. "Here, let me show you..." She grabbed the man's shoulder, and his face drained of all color.

"N-no! I'm sorry, I-" the woman's hand shifted to his throat, and her knife seemed to magically appear in his stomach. He could not cry out, only gurgle his last as he fell. It was a pity, really. That captain had served him faithfully for months. It was a show of uncommon loyalty.

"Apology accepted." Aversa smirked, and turned to him.

"Do try not to kill ALL of the soldiers, my dear," Gangrel said playfully. It was an unfortunate habit of hers. "We'll need a few for the welcoming party. The Ylisseans will be here soon—Chrom and the Emblem among them, I'm sure. That bleeding-heart prince would never put good sense before his sister!"

"And when they arrive?" Gangrel grinned.

"It will be a massacre worthy of their legendary father!" And he could not wait for them to arrive! He would finally have some fun here. Real fun, the kind you couldn't get from sitting around and ordering others to kill for you. No, this would be far better. He'd get the Emblem and finally take vengeance on the damned Ylisseans that had drove his nation to ruin. And when he had made an example of Chrom, when Ylisse was subjugated and Ragna Ferox bent the knee, then Gangrel would turn his sights across the sea.

And the Mad King would reign supreme.

* * *

The repetitive sound of wood hitting wood was soothing, in its own way. Again and again, the training sword hit the dummy, exactly where Lon'qu wanted it to hit, at exactly the right time. As he went, his routines became steadily more complex, fighting off not only the dummy but enemies only he could see, shadows lurking at the edge of his vision, ready to kill him or die in the process. After all, were the Risen any different? Shadows of men, emotionless and ruthless. He swung at one of these shadows his mind conjured, knowing full well that the swing into empty air would yield neither impact not sound. So it was to his great surprise when a loud thunk rang out. It took a few moments for him to realize that it had not resulted from his own action, but from behind him.

"I am going to assume you are generally more silent when trying to sneak up on the enemy," Lon' qu stated without turning.

"Sorry," Lyta's voice responded. "Wanted to look at one of these training blades. Dropped it. Won't happen again. They are… surprisingly heavy."

"No more so than the weight of a real weapon," Lon'qu replied. "If you must be down here as well, please try to be quiet." For a few moments, there was silence.

"Why are you out here all alone, anyway? Everyone else is making camp." The silence had not lasted.

"If you must know," Lon'qu replied, "I am ensuring that today's accident does not repeat itself. I cannot make another sloppy mistake like that one. I must also ensure that my arm is working as it should."

"What, don't want to end up with Maribelle again?" Lyta joked.

"That woman could win this war by scolding the Mad King. If I am injured again, I won't hear the end of it. As it is, she's decided that she will be the one to help me overcome my aversion to...your kind."

"Speaking of," Lyta carried on, not minding Lon'qu's hesitance, "you're awfully chatty today. Did Maribelle fix your tongue as well as your arm?"

"I have given up any hope of driving you away with silence, and am now thinking that satisfying your inane curiosity will make you leave all the quicker."

"Fair enough. By all means, continue what you were doing." She fell silent. Seeing no other alternative other than standing around, Lon'qu went back to the dummy. Unfortunately, his concentration was now long gone.

"You're watching me very intently. Why?" He asked without looking away from his target.

"I wanted to find out how you fight. How people like you fight." She answered. "You were originally from Chon'sin, right?" Lon'qu only grunted in response. How she had come to know that, he had no idea. But there was no point in denying it. "I have a friend who trained there. He fights like you do. I knew him when we were children, but I never stopped to pay attention to how he fought."

"So, why, then, are you here?" The Myrmidon asked. "Do you want to emulate him? To become his equal?"

"No," she replied nonchalantly. "I need to know how to kill him." His eyes widened. For the first time in this conversation, he actually turned to face her. She was calm, her expression neutral.

"You cannot be serious." He stated. "You want to kill your childhood friend? And you expect me to help you with this?"

"He betrayed my trust. All of our trust!" She answered vehemently, suddenly indignant. "He stole something very important and ran off without an explanation or a second glance."

"So you would act as his sole judge, jury, and executioner when you yourself admit you don't know why he acted?" Lon'qu shot back just as vehemently. "Do you have no faith in those you call friend?" The swordsman was incredulous. There was nothing he would not have given up for…her, for an old friend, and yet this young archer was prepared to end the life of someone else as if he was no more than a fly. Lon'qu couldn't say he didn't understand such an attack if the situation necessitated it, but he couldn't help think of his own past

"I cannot trust him! He betrayed everyone! And if the time comes, I need to be ready to end the threat he poses. To end ANY threat that presents itself." Lon'qu looked at her. She was angry, at him to be sure. But her stance had not changed. She was still poised and collected, calm...no, he realized, even when she was resting, it was as if she were ready to spring into action. Had she always been this way, ready to attack anyone or anything?

"This goes beyond your friend, doesn't it?" Lon'qu asked, realization dawning. He'd been subconsciously drawing a connection, one that just now become apparent. "If I ran at you right now with a weapon, would you even hesitate before putting an arrow between my eyes?" She didn't answer, only staring defiantly at him. It was enough.

"I know what a troubled past can do to someone," the swordsman finally said, after Lyta refused to speak. "My own failures have defined me. I know this fully well. And I am certain that whatever haunts you can be traced back to your own past. But the difference between you and I is that I trust the Shepherds. I may dislike or even loathe being near some of them, but I would entrust my life with any of them on the battlefield. I can no longer say the same about you." Lyta still refused to react.

"I can do nothing to help you face your demons. Until such a time comes that you do, I do not wish to be your friend, if such a term means anything to you. Nor do I wish to be your next target. I will not stand in your way if you do not stand in mine. Farewell." He cast the wooden blade aside and walked off. He did not wait to see how Lyta would react.

* * *

"The exalt is to be executed at the castle on the morrow." The spy continued. "I heard if from the king's own lips, sire."

"This is it, then." Basilio concluded.

"Exactly as you predicted, Robin." Chrom said, turning to him. He was right, of course. Robin had indeed predicted that the execution would be tomorrow, or at least very soon. Gangrel would know by now that they were close by, and he would need to spring his trap sooner rather than later to catch them in it. He wouldn't want to give them time to think things through. But that exactly was Robin's job. Fortunately, he had a plan.

"So far, yes." He responded. "But tomorrow will be the true test..."

"Chin up, there!" Flavia called out, hearing the wariness that must have been in his voice. "Show some confidence! It's your thinking that's got us this far. The plan is risky, but only as much is called for." Technically, she was right. But "this far" wasn't what mattered. It was what happened next.

"We'll find a way to see it through, Robin." There was Chrom. He had far more at stake here than anyone else. If anyone should have been nervously fretting away the time before the execution, it should have been him. But as always, he was playing the part of the leader, and playing it well. "Don't worry. This time tomorrow, we'll be swapping stories with Emm on the road home." He seemed so confident, so sure, that Robin almost couldn't help but believe him.

"I hope you're right," was all he said. All that was left was to wait, and prepare for tomorrow. Then everything would be decided.

* * *

Martin slipped out of the planning room and marched towards his own tent. Shielding his eyes from the setting sun, he pulled the flap aside and stepped in. The other three stared at him. He was the last to arrive.

"Good, everyone's here." Cainne stated. She had called the meeting. Martin knew what was coming next; he wondered if Lyta or Shione suspected. Lyta had sunk down onto the ground, looking even more reserved than usual. Shione, on the other hand, was leaning lightly against the center post. Judging by his cheerful demeanor, he didn't know why they were here.

"I'll keep things simple," Cainne continued. "Tomorrow, the Exalt is set to be executed. We, or at least the Shepherds, will attempt to rescue her. And as harsh as it sounds, it would be much better if the Shepherds fail."

"What?" Shione almost yelled, his disbelief apparent. Cainne raised her hand, silencing him. Lyta did not react.

"If the Exalt dies here, that means Chrom will be placed in power. And that is what Ylisse, and more importantly the whole world needs if it is to survive what comes next."

"What happens if the Shepherds are winning? Do we murder them? Do we murder her?" Shione was livid. "How do you expect us to just twiddle our thumbs and let her die?"

"Because she doesn't die." Martin interrupted, stopping him. "A bit of private information I'm fortunately privy to. She is...changed, and she is never again a public figure, but she lives. And Chrom takes power and leads Ylisse through the coming turmoil in a way Emmeryn couldn't. We cannot interfere here, not this time." Shione closed his eyes and leaned back.

"I still don't like this." He said.

"I don't either," Martin replied, "but it's our only choice. She gets hurt, or we all die. And you and I both know what Emmeryn would choose. What she does choose."

"That's not it," Shione spoke up. "I mean, yeah, it is, but there's something else. There will be more than a dozen pegasus knights involved with this operation, if we can rescue Phila's forces. Half their number wouldn't be here normally. Hell, I'm one of them." He shook his head. "I'm wondering less if we can sit back and let this operation fail and more if we can actually stop it from succeeding. What if everything goes right?"

"Then we improvise." Cainne answered. "If it's looking like the Shepherds succeed, then maybe we get to her first, find some way to rescue her and keep her out of Ylissean affairs. Maybe even tell her the truth, if it comes to that. If we can't...well, we'll have tried everything we could. We let Emmeryn keep her chair and try to mitigate the damage."

I don't like that idea." Lyta said, speaking up for the first time. "Because that means we'll be here for a long time. This isn't our home. We don't belong here. As soon as we find Aiden and everything he stole, I want to leave. I can't do that if I'm making sure the world doesn't collapse around everyone." There was a long moment of silence in the tent. She was right, of course.

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it." Martin finally said. "For now, let's just get ready. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

* * *

Shione walked out to the makeshift stables where they had tied up the various mounts the Shepherds used in battle. This was a separate camp than that used by the Feroxi army, so they luckily didn't have to deal with the massive amounts of supplies and waste generated by that many men, and the same went for their mounts. Here, it was just the Ylissean horses and pegasi. The horses he had found back when this whole mess started were here, tied up and in significantly better health than when the Risen had owned them. No one would be riding them into battle, but they were handy for carrying cargo or riding into a nearby town. Of course, the only town nearby was the one they'd be sneaking into tomorrow, so that was out of the question.

There were far more pegasi stables here than there were riders. Tomorrow, Thaneta and a group of Feroxi troops would free the captive Ylissean Knights that had accompanied Emmeryn. Assuming the Plegians had not kept their mounts alive, these would serve as replacements. Once they arrived, he and anyone else who could fly would head directly for Emmeryn. What would happen next was anyone's guess.

He still didn't feel right about all of this.

The sound of humming drew his attention. Slowly, he drew closer to the sound. It wasn't a surprise when he found Sumia, caring for her pegasus. Shione recognized the tune: it was a song about flying, from the perspective of one of the legendary heroes of the past. Every pegasus knight and trainee knew it. It was the closest thing they had to an anthem. He raised his hand in greeting.

"Hey." He said. What happened next, which involved Sumia dropping the brush she has been using and then tripping over her own two feet, though unexpected, was entirely too predictable.

"Oh, no-Oof! Er...hi, Shione. Sorry!" He bent down and offered her a hand.

"My bad," he replied. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Don't worry! I've done worse. What brings you here?"

"Oh, uh..." Shione didn't know how to respond. He couldn't very well tell her about what he was actually worried about. "Just preparing for tomorrow."

"Me too!" Sumia enthusiastically replied. "I was making sure all these pegasi were happy and healthy. Would you like to help?" Seeing no reason not to contribute, Shione nodded. They spent the next few minutes quietly working on their task, checking over the pegasi and their equipment. Shione was the first to break the silence.

"So, uh, you and Cordelia seem to get along well." He said awkwardly. All he wanted to do was start up a conversation. Outside of the battlefield, he and Sumia had barely met. "Have you known each other long?"

"We were childhood friends," she replied. "She never could run, so she took up flying instead. She trained to be a knight while I joined the Shepherds. I bet she was surprised to see me flying around on a pegasus too!"

Shione grunted in acknowledgement. "And to see you with Chrom, I'd wager." It was only after the words had left his mouth that he realized he had said them. He turned to find Sumia looking at him, her face suddenly bright red.

"What?" She stammered out.

"Er, sorry. I just thought you and the captain...well, it looks like you may have fallen for him." Shione replied. Sumia hung her head.

"Is it that obvious?" She eventually said.

"No, not really. It could be worse: you could be acting like Cordelia." At this, Sumia smiled, slightly. She didn't seem to mind, so he continued. "I'll be honest, I'm not sure how she'll react when she finds out that you've both fallen for the same guy." Again, he found Sumia staring at him, but this time, confusion was apparent in her features.

"What? Her and...and Chrom?" She questioned. "No, it can't be! She has that mysterious stranger she's always going on about!" Wait, did she really not know? Shione suddenly realized that he had started down an entirely unexpected and unwanted topic of conversation. One that he had no idea how to back away from.

"Well, yeah. She's...she's talking about Chrom. Almost everyone in the camp could tell you that." Sumia's face drained of all color.

"I...I didn't know...all this time, Cordelia has been talking about Chrom?" Her eyes widened. "She's been talking about him since we were kids! I have to do something about this!" She yelled out, and was out of the stables before Shione could even attempt to stop her. The remaining pegasus knight shook his head. What had he just done?

* * *

It was a trickle, maddeningly slow, but it was enough. Slowly, ever so slowly, he was reforming. With each day, each hour, each minute, he grew more...whole. More like what he once was, what he should have been, and what he again would be.

A consciousness brushed against his own, a sudden but familiar sensation. The mortal's mind was small in comparison to his own, and his comprehension of this place even smaller. But he did not need to understand the void. He would serve.

"Master Grima, Exalt Emmeryn is to be put to death on the morrow. Events will soon be back on course." Validar spoke with words, with language, even in this form of contact. So much of the mortal mind was tied into their language. But unlike Validar, he faced no such restrictions. His mind touched Validar's directly. It was a small touch, as light as a feather. Anything more could overwhelm him. But it was enough. Validar understood all that he was supposed to. The truth of his world and his fate. Inevitability.

"Ha ha, yes," his laugh was hollow, without true meaning. "I should never have doubted the truth of your words. The yoke of destiny cannot be cast off! Even as they resist, they write your future with every step, O great one!" Even the arrogant mortals who would call themselves King and strained against him were all working towards goals he had ordained. They, like the groveling servant before him, were merely pawns. Tools.

He took a brief moment to contemplate an amusing thought. Which was the greater pawn? Those who gained power through utter devotion to him, and in the process lost autonomy? Or those who thought themselves independently powerful, but followed his plans all the same? No matter, it was a question for another-

Wait. An intruder. A mind reaching out across the void unconsciously, searching for what it subconsciously knew. The being that had defied him, betrayed him, sentenced him to watch and act through others. The pitiful fool who had thwarted him. They were here. They had seen Validar's declarations. He let them watch, for a moment. A tantalizing peek at the cruel fate they unwittingly marched toward. And then, just as suddenly, he severed the tendril of thought. They would discover no more beyond depths of their own fear. For the day would come when he would walk the face of this world. And when that day came, they would pay.

* * *

Gods, the screaming! It was...he had screamed. That...was that a nightmare? It didn't feel like it. The horrible sense of dread, fear and helplessness, it had all seemed so real, so visceral. And that man...he had been in Robin's dreams before, he was sure of it.

"Robin?" came Lissa's questioning voice as she ducked through the tent's entrance. "Hey Robin, what's wrong? Was it a nightmare?" He still wasn't sure himself.

"Is that what it was? Yes, it must have been." He couldn't think clearly. But what was he doing troubling Lissa with this? "I'm sorry, what brings you here, Lissa? Was there something you needed?"

"Frederick says it's time to march!" She replied, surprisingly cheerful. "And we can't start the plan without our master tactician!"

Robin blinked away his weariness. So this was it, then? In more ways than one, it was judgement day.

* * *

Flavia watched, and waited. A massive pillar of bone jutted overhead, hanging over a courtyard of stone. Atop it, the Exalt, her hands bound, along with her executioner. A crowd had gathered in the great courtyard, close enough to view the execution but far enough away to avoid any...unpleasantness. Unbeknownst to them, the Ylissean rescue team was scattered among the crowd, hidden in concealing Plegian robes. To all the world, they were just civilians hoping to keep the sun off of their heads. Basilio was rallying their troops to the north, waiting on their signal. He would lead an assault on the prison where they were keeping the Ylissean captives. Even that strange swordsman Marth had shown her now maskless face, wandering the crowd. Flavia had wanted to ask how she had gotten here, but the crowd had quickly swallowed her. By all accounts, this would be quite the event.

A commotion drew her attention to the platform. It was offset from the pillar, so that from the perspective of the civilians in the courtyard, it was framed by the massive jaws of the skull which housed the Plegian capital. A small group of citizens were cheering, and it wasn't hard to see why. Adorned in fine clothes and jewelry that could not hide his cruel demeanor, the Mad King ascended to the top of his platform. Those nearby were cheering for him. But the atmosphere in the crowd was not joyous. It was tense and uncomfortable. Flavia wondered if those who were cheering actually felt any joy at all.

"Good People!" Gangrel called out, his features twisted into a grin. Flavia's hand unconsciously went to the axe under her cloak. "Warriors of Plegia! Welcome!" He continued, gesturing across the audience as quiet settled down on the crowd.

"Welcome, one and all! Your anticipation electrifies the air!" The air was electric, but out of fear, not excitement. Not that the Mad King cared. "We ALL remember the crimes of Ylisse... Would you have their witch-queen answer for them? Here? Today? NOW?" His voice grew more and more intense as he spoke. After a brief moment, the crowd, especially those nearest the king, cheered. But for those around here, there was no joy in their cries. It was a hollow response to something they'd probably seen far too many times before.

Nevertheless, Gangrel carried on with his cruel show. "YEEEESSS!" He cried, elated, in response to their cheers. Finally, we will have justice! Executioner! If you would be so kind..." He raised his hand to the pillar, and Flavia tensed.

"Flavia!"

"I've got him!" She ripped a throwing axe from under her cloak and hurled it at the thug who was already approaching the Exalt. For a moment, everything seemed to slow down as the axe arced towards the executioner. The throw had felt good. It would land.

A moment later, the thug's corpse fell off the edge of the bone. Robin called out. Almost as one, a dozen weapons were drawn and readied as disguises were cast aside. The crowd immediately took notice, scattering and fleeing in a mass stampede. Almost as quickly, Plegian soldiers and Royal Guards had set up around the King and deployed through the courtyard.

The Shepherds took action, taking the positions Robin had marked out around the courtyard. They couldn't let a single Plegian soldier, foot or airborne, threaten the Exalt.

"Take out all of the soldiers first!" Chrom emphasized. "We'll deal with the Mad King later!"

Then Flavia looked at the man in question, and froze. The madman didn't look the least bit troubled by the attack. In fact, he was grinning wider than he had been at the thought of executing the Exalt.

Oh will you now?" He taunted, letting out a horrible cackle. "We've been expecting you, Little Prince. Men: Kill him. Kill his sister. Kill his troops and his friends and anyone else you find! Kill them all!" An arrow shot out from the crowd, stopping inches from his face, embedded in the shield of who Flavia could only assume was his ranking general. He didn't even flinch, instead slowly turning around and walking into his city.

"Forget him!" Robin said, running up to her. "Emmeryn needs us!" Right, of course. And what kind of Khan would she be to avoid a fight? She put back on her familiar cocky grin. The Plegians wouldn't know what hit them. And neither would Gangrel, soon enough.

* * *

The cell was dank and poorly lit. The floor was sand and the walls rock, and Phila had looked over them so many times she saw them in her sleep. It was all she could do here. Pacing would drive her mad, and she could only sleep so much. They gave her little in the way of food or water, and kept her isolated from the Knights under her command. But they were alive. Beaten and bruised, but alive. They had not wanted to torture her, much. They didn't want anything she knew, not that she would have told them. All they had said was that they wanted her to hear when her Exalt "fell from grace". But what she could hear now sounded like a pitched battle. Did she dare hope?

She waited, and waited, and still there was nothing but the clash of metal and distant shouts. And then she decided. It would do no one any good to stay locked up here.

She ran to the cell door and tested its strength. Tough, but the foundations were rock and sand, long exposed to the elements of the desert. Maybe she could crack them.

She slammed her shoulder into the bars, again and again, with all her remaining strength. They rattled and shook tremendously, but did not budge. She drew back again, but a voice rang out.

"Hey! Stop that right now, dammit!" Gods, a guardsman! They hadn't all left to fight, then. And now this one was mad. He lumbered forward, club in hand. "You've been pissing me off ever since you got here, missy. And with all that commotion out there, I don't think anyone would notice if something...unfortunate were to happen to you. What do you thi-" there was a thud, and he collapsed with a gurgle.

Basilio pulled the axe out of his back. "Captain Phila? Gods, I'm glad to see you're well. Course, this oaf was trying to change that, but he won't be bothering anyone now.

"Khan Basilio?" Phila replied. "Are you here to help us, then? What of the Exalt?"

"Yeah, we're here, thanks to that tactician and your Prince. Now come on, we'll have plenty of time for questions later." With that, Basilio struck a great blow to the door's lock, shattering it. "Now do you have any idea where the rest of your troops are?"

* * *

Chrom rushed to the courtyard gates, Libra at his side. The monk had proven incredibly useful at helping him clear the path of Plegians, and was equally skilled at healing magic. And now, with enemy soldiers falling back and breaking ranks all around, it looked like Robin's plan really had a chance.

The remaining enemy forces had made their stand between the courtyard and the palace. Now that their supporting forces, which had been surrounding the courtyard, had been taken care of, the Shepherds could break their hold on the area and clear it out for long enough to rescue Emmeryn. Some of the other members of the rescue team had already started working on just that.

Chrom could hear chanting- spell casting? - Just around the corner of the gatehouse. As one, he and Libra rounded it, weapons drawn.

The Plegian Mage took notice of them, he was certain of it. But she didn't seem to care much. She didn't even raise a hand against them. Rather, she was muttering to herself and scanning the courtyard, as if she were looking for something. Chrom turned to Libra, and back to the mage.

"You there!" He called out, getting her attention. "Are you with the Plegians? You seem reluctant to fight." Slowly, she turned to face him, looking incredibly bored.

"Death comes for all of us eventually," she replied. "Why invite it early, fighting for a cause I don't believe in?" That didn't exactly answer his question.

"So…should I take that as a no, or…"

"Let's just say I'm keeping my options open." She replied, cutting him off. "I mean, long live the king and all, but I'd like to keep living as well. And I have a bit of a rebellious streak, I'm afraid. A…dark side." The way she said that was troubling, though Chrom couldn't place exactly why it was so. Nevertheless, he did not want to fight this woman. She seemed too sure of her own safety in the middle of a warzone, even as she was essentially playing on both sides. She also appeared very competent. In fact…

"Then," Chrom started, making it up as he went, "perhaps you would rebel now, and fight for our cause?" They had no one skilled in dark magic within the Shepherds, and he needed every bit of help he could get to save Emmeryn. She would approve of this alliance.

"You would trust me?" For the first time, the mage reacted. She seemed earnestly perplexed, as if this was the one possibility she had thought would never occur. In truth, Chrom hadn't planned on it, either. "What if this is just a ploy to plunge a dagger in your back?"

"My sister, the Exalt- I think she would trust you." Chrom explained. He couldn't explain why, but he was sure of it, in fact. "And I'm trying to learn from her. Besides, I already need to watch my back, whether you're with us or not." He also thought it unlikely thay this chance meeting on the battlefield could be a well-orchestrated scheme against him, but he didn't mention that. Nor did he mention that, judging by the woman's outfit, she had nowhere to hide a dagger.

"Sire!" Libra stiffened. "I must ask you to consider what you are doing. This woman clearly serves nothing more than her own self-interest! I would not trust her."

"Oh, don't worry, priest. Even if that were the truth, my own self-interest lies squarely with me surviving. For now, that means helping you and your prince." She turned to face Chrom. "As for you, you have surprised me. Usually when I bring up the backstabbing bit the discussion is over. Alright then, consider me your new ally." She said with a nod. "And tell your lackey that she can keep an eye on me, if she wishes. I won't bite."

"He." Chrom stated.

"What?"

"I am a man." Libra replied, his expression frosty.

"Oh." The mage replied, seemingly at a loss for words. "Let's…let's get going. My name is Tharja, by the way."

* * *

"Virion, we need you over there, now!" Robin pointed to the west wall of the courtyard, where the Shepherd's airborne forces had just engaged the newly arrived Plegian wyvern brigade. The archer nodded.

"They shall rue the day they thought to contest with the archest of archers!" With a flourish, he was off. Robin could only stare.

"Er, right." Why were some of his comrades so incredibly strange? And, as he watched a glowing dragon that had only moments before been a little girl cut through the enemy wyverns, he had to wonder why the strangest seemed to be the best at what they did.

"Robin!" it was Chrom, marching up. Behind him was what appeared to be a monk and…a Plegian mage? The latter was staring at him for some reason, her gaze unflinching. Robin managed to look away and faced Chrom. "What does the situation look like?"

"We've driven most of them back," Robin replied. "There's a wyvern brigade making its way here from the west, and the Plegian General has set himself up between us and the castle, but if we can neutralize him, we should be able to rout the enemy and get Emmeryn out."

"Alright. I'll deal with him." Chrom answered.

"No need." Robin replied. "Gregor already volunteered. Martin and Miriel tagged along to help." Chrom nodded.

"Good to hear he's already made himself useful. I'll make sure he doesn't need any help." Then Chrom, too, ran off. The monk followed suit. But where had the dark mage gone? Oh, good. She was just hiding behind a bush, watching him.

Gods, was everyone in this army insane?

* * *

"You'll never save your precious Exalt, scum!" the general roared, charging at Gregor. Before Martin could react, Gregor had already taken action. The seasoned mercenary rolled to the side and the heavily armored and angry Plegian ran right past him. Martin had a second to contemplate how red the man's face had flushed. In fact, it almost looked like a tomato! It was then he realized that momentum alone wasn't driving him forward. No, he was charging at Martin!

A firebolt impacted the knight's side, breaking his charge. Martin saw Miriel, the caster, adjust her glasses and nod at him. Then Gregor was back on him, slashing at the man's legs. He landed a good hit, and the man fell to one knee, armor weighing him down.

"Not wanting to get along, eh?" Gregor asked, approaching the fallen foe. The knight spat at him. He plunged his sword through a gap in the general's armor, delivering a killing blow.

"killing me will only…feed Plegia's rage!' the general croaked out before dying. Gregor cleaned his blade, and turned to Martin.

"I think it is time we are rescuing the Exalt now, yes?"

* * *

"Remind me again why you thought it was a good idea to send away some of my best soldiers, along with almost all your Grimleal?" Gangrel asked. He was growing tired of watching his own forces get slaughtered without managing to push back the Ylissean curs one inch. And to make matters worse, he was relatively certain they'd just killed his favorite general.

Not that he was in any danger, of course. The palace was heavily guarded and practically impenetrable, and the Ylisseans wouldn't care either way. Their goal lay in their Exalt. From his vantage point high on the Palace walls, he was almost at eye level with the woman, who still stood on the bony pillar that she should have fallen from already. But her time would come.

"I did not expect the Ylisseans to put up such a fight," Aversa replied, answering his question. "Not that it matters. They may think that they are winning, but they cannot escape fate. They will die here."

"So you keep saying." Gangrel shot back. "But here they are, and almost at their goal, and we've nothing to show for it!" He turned to face her directly, clearly furious. "Whatever you're planning, do it soon. And no matter what, you CANNOT allow that witch to get away. Do you understand me?" Far from being cowed, Aversa smirked.

"Perfectly, my lord."

The sound of beating wings caught his attention. He turned back to the battlefield, and almost couldn't believe his eyes. Pegasus Knights! A dozen of them! His captives, free and about to undo all of his hard work!

"How did they…" It was that damned tactician again. If it wasn't for him, all this would have gone a lot smoother. "That damned tactician does NOT play fair!" He was about to grab a bow and start picking them off himself when Aversa stopped him in his tracks. She was laughing, and not in a comforting way. It was a laugh he knew very well, one that meant their foe had just walked right into her own trap.

"Yes, well, neither do I." Then she began her incantation.

* * *

The wind was brisk, but not uncomfortable. In fact, were her circumstances different, Emmeryn would have enjoyed the perch she found herself on. She could see everything here, and had been watching the battle since it began. She had been prepared to die, but Chrom's rescue attempt had filled her with hope again.

Oh, Chrom. Her little brother had grown up. He would make a good leader, one day.

A ball of magical light soared into the air. Some sort of signal? Her unspoken question was answered, when, moments later, a flight of pegasus knights took to the air and approached her. Her heart soared when she saw who led them.

"Phila!" She called out. Her ever faithful knight-captain, once again putting her own life on the line for Emmeryn's sake. She owed that woman so much. "I'm so glad to see you're safe! But how-"

"Khan Basilio's men freed me!" Phila answered, anticipating her question. "Come, we must hurry!" She drew close to Emmeryn with surprising speed, and the Exalt readied herself to leave this place. She would live another day, thank Naga.

Then the sky darkened, and everything went wrong. Doorways, like great lidless eyes, appeared in the sky, and corpses fell from them. They landed, awoke, and readied bows and arrows. Emmeryn felt her heart sink. She watched as Phila wheeled away from the pillar, diving towards the ground. She saw Chrom and his tactician spot the Risen, and she swore she could see the desperation on his face.

"Damn! Not now!" She heard him cry out. A cackle rang out from the ramparts of the palace.

"Oh, did an army of living corpses just APPEAR out of the blue? Truly, the heavens smile upon the mighty King Gangrel this day!" Then, the Risen drew and fired.

She saw arrows arc towards her brave companion, and could barely stand to watch as Phila was plucked out of the sky.

"Exuent one pegasus knight!" Gangrel taunted with a mad laugh. "Watch how they fall, one by one!" Emmeryn wanted to look away, but couldn't. It would dishonor those who were prepared to give their life for her. Half of the knights died in the first volley. The others…

The others did not die so quickly. What she witnessed next was almost enough to convince her that the day might be saved. Anyone who was still alive dove towards the ground, towards their attackers. Arrows were fired towards the sky, and some hit their targets, but a surprising number of the Risen started to fall. Battle was joined, once again. She watched as Chrom's people fell upon any Risen they could find. She was able to see the one who called herself Marth fighting through the enemy. She even saw three Risen fall in quick succession to a figure clad in blue that she did not recognize.

Those remaining pegasus knights fought with everything they had, but it wasn't enough. More undead appeared by the moment. But if she knew Chrom, he wouldn't leave without her. He would try something soon, something foolish. Even now, he was cutting his way through the enemy to reach her.

Emmeryn wasn't the only one to think of this eventuality, however. Suddenly, every bow and arrow was pointed at her. The battle raged on in the distance as pegasi swooping through the air and Risen fighting men and women, unaware of the sudden reversal of fortune and determined to fight for their lives. Everyone closer at hand froze.

"Emm!" Chrom called out.

"ARCHERS!" Gangrel called out. "If this Ylissean pup so much as twitches, let fly your arrows!"

"I…I'll kill you!" Her brother called out, ever defiant. As for Emmeryn herself, she did not let her fear show. She would be brave for her brother. For her people.

"Go ahead! I welcome it!" Gangrel yelled. "Just know that you were responsible for Big Sister's Bloody demise! Now, all of you, lay down your arms, or she dies. No more headstrong rescue attempts!"

"Damn you!" What was Gangrel playing at? He had them all where he wanted them. If he wanted her dead, she would be. So why wasn't she?

"Now, now, my boy- no one needs to die today. Not you. Not the Exalt. Not your friends. Just lay down your sword, and give me the Fire Emblem." Of course. The Fire Emblem. It was what he had wanted all along, after all. Even now.

Chrom and his tactician turned to each other. Emmeryn couldn't make out what they were saying.

"I will count to three!" the Mad King called out. "Throw down your weapons, or your Exalt becomes the world's largest quiver." Emmeryn knew she was going to die. It was a sobering thought, but it was the truth. No matter what Chrom decided now, she knew Gangrel would not let them leave. "One! Two!" Emmeryn braced herself.

"Gangrel, hold!" Chrom called out, pleading. "You win." She couldn't watch. She had an idea, but it was hard to think of, hard to fully comprehend. But did she have a choice? She had to try something. So she cried out.

"No, wait!"

"SILENCE!" The Mad King's reaction was explosive, and terrifying. But she would not stop now.

"King Gangrel, is there no hope that you will listen to reason?" It was a last effort to appeal to whatever humanity the man had left, but he was already too far down the road towards madness.

"You mean listen to more of your sanctimonious babble? I think not." He was controlling himself, barely. "No, all I want to hear now is the THUNK of arrows, and a SPLAT as you hit the ground. Take one long, last look from your perch. Yu do so enjoy looking down on people…then prepare to meet the ground, and your maker! That is, unless someone were to give me the Emblem, NOW!"

One way or the other, these would be the last few moments Emmeryn had in this world. She was sad, but not regretful. If she died in defiance of the Mad King, so be it.

"ALL RIGHT!" It was her brother, calling out one last time to try and fix things. "All right…Emm, I know you won't approve, but this is my final decision. Maybe someday we'll face a crisis where maybe the Emblem would've helped…but I know for a fact that Ylisse needs you, today! The people need their Exalt…and we need our sister. If those dark days should come, we'll face them together."

Chrom had grown up. There was no denying it. And even if he didn't realize it, he had become a leader. Their people needed a leader, but not her. She would save them in another way. As for Chrom and Lissa…they would live. Chrom thought she didn't approve, but she did. He was thinking about what Ylisse needed, even if it was the same thing he wanted. He couldn't understand the importance of the Emblem, but he understood the value of a life.

Chrom, Lissa…she loved her people, and she loved them. She had to do what she could for them, and they would live on, no matter what they thought of her.

"Chrom…th-thank you." A tear streaked down her face. She paid it no mind. "I know now what I must do." She began to walk forward.

"Plegians! I ask you to hear the truth of my words! War will win you nothing but sadness and pain, both inside your borders and out. Free yourselves from this hatred! From this cycle of pain and vengeance. Do what you must…as I will do. See now that-"

The world around her shattered, and she was falling.

* * *

Phila couldn't feel her leg. Everything above the waist ached, and below the waist was even worse. One leg hurt so much it was nauseating, the other was numb. She was almost glad, the pain would have been unbearable otherwise. Her senses were foggy, but she knew what had happened. She had been shot out of the sky. Her mount, her companion who had traveled by her side for as long as she could remember, whom she had rescued from a cramped pen after the prison break, was dead on top of her. Her legs were pinned, and likely broken. Someone was speaking, but she couldn't make out who it was through the fog. Then a shadow blocked her sight, and she felt someone grasp her arms.

"Hang on, this is gonna hurt!" Suddenly, pressure was being taken from her legs, and she was being pulled out from underneath her pegasus. Pain and sensation washed in immediately, and it was all she could do not to throw up. Oh gods…the sensation faded away with her vision, and everything grew dark.

* * *

Anem dropped down onto the ground with a thud, and Shione almost rolled out of the saddle. All those Risen…things had gotten really bad, really quickly. He owed his own life more to his distance from the courtyard than anything else. Out here, the fighting was still going. They had scattered, and now they were fighting for their life as events went on without them.

He had seen Captain Phila go down around here. She had been close to the ground, and only one archer had managed to hit her before the fighting broke out. Maybe…if he could get to her, maybe she was still alive.

He crested a pile of rubble that had broken off in the initial fighting, and froze.

She was there, but if she was alive, she was in a bad way. But what stopped him wasn't her. It was the figure in blue robes and a hood examining her.

"…Aiden." The hooded figure looked up, and a familiar pair of eyes locked onto his. The swordsmaster stood.

"If she doesn't get out of here, she'll die." He said, referring to Phila.

"And what? Am I supposed to just leave you?"

"Don't worry about me. I can make it on my own."

"You know that's not what I mean," Shione replied, leveling his axe.

"Save her." Aiden said, drawing his own two blades in response. "We'll meet again. You can tell Cainne that. But it'll be on my terms." Shione couldn't let him go. He was the whole reason why they were there. But he couldn't just let Phila die.

"Plegians! I ask you to hear the truth of my words…" Shione and Aiden both looked up. Emmeryn was speaking.

"We both know where this leads." Aiden stated. If you don't go now, she'll die. You might, too. Please, go!" Shione huffed. He knew Aiden was right. He ran over to the fallen captain.

"Shione!" someone called. He looked up from Phila's wounds. It was Thaneta, still somehow alive!

"Captain! I need help! He…"Shione looked towards Aiden, and found no one there. The bastard was gone already! "Never mind. We need to get Captain Phila out of here!"

"What about Emmeryn?" The Exalt was still making her speech. Shione looked up. She was edging closer and closer to the tip of the bone pillar. Maybe if they could catch her in midair…

Then a bolt of shadow collided with the pillar, and the whole structure was engulfed in blackness. Then the orb of darkness collapsed in on itself, and the pillar shattered. Fragments and massive pieces of bone fell to the ground, and a great cloud of sand and dust engulfed them all.

* * *

"Oh gods…" It was all Robin said. All he could say. One moment, Emmeryn had been there, the next…

"DAMN YOU, GANGREL!" Chrom roared. It was a scream of anguish and rage, pure and unadulterated. It shocked Robin out of his stupor. Lissa had collapsed. Chrom was running forward. Everyone was scattered, everything was all wrong, and he couldn't see for all the dust in the air. But running towards the enemy couldn't be a good idea.

"Chrom!" Robin said, grabbing his shoulder. Chrom shrugged him off.

"Gangrel dies today!" Robin was prepared to stop him, with force if necessary, but someone else stepped in. Flavia and Basilio, timely as ever, found them.

"No, boy!" Basilio shouted. "I secured an escape route! We have to flee!" He shook Chrom, and Robin could see the manic rage dissipate.

"B-but…her body…I have to…" The shock and the grief was setting in.

"You have to RUN!" Basilio roared. "Go, get to it! Robin, don't let him do anything stupid!" The tactician nodded, leading Chrom away from the now-settling cloud of dust, and away from one of the bravest leaders he had ever known.

* * *

Shock. That was what he was feeling right now. He shouldn't have been. After all, he had wanted the witch dead for years. He had set this whole execution in motion. But she had just…she hadn't fallen, she hadn't been shot…the whole thing had just been…obliterated.

What had just happened?

The magical aura had no sooner faded away from around Aversa than Gangrel had pinned her against the wall, a knife to her throat.

"What in Grima's name did you just do?" He shouted. "You just killed my bargaining chip! I WAS THIS CLOSE TO THE FIRE EMBLEM!"

"If you hadn't noticed while you were prattling on with the Prince," Aversa spat back "The pegasus knights were about to swoop in and take your bargaining chip! It was all I could do to keep them back, and as if that weren't enough, she was about to jump off herself!"

"So you destroy the whole thing? Your Risen were supposed to have this situation under control. Now it's all spiraling out of hand, and I have NOTHING to show for it!"

"You told me to make sure she didn't leave, and I sent a message. Everyone will know the power you possess, and they will fear it."

"You made a martyr! She had time to make a whole damn sermon before you took action! Whether she had offed herself or you had killed her, she got her point across. Now everyone is going to be up in arms! Everything will dissolve into complete chaos!"

"And the Prince will come to you, seeking revenge. You can take the Fire Emblem then."

She had a point. Even a madman could see that. He stepped back from the wall and sheathed his knife.

"If you'll excuse me," he said curtly, "I have preparations to see to."

* * *

Martin couldn't believe it. She was gone. Well and truly gone. There was no way anyone could have survived that. She wasn't supposed to be dead now. She was supposed to live! She would have been amnesic and unable to speak, but she would have been alive, dammit!"

Now the Shepherds were running for their lives from the palace. As he looked around, he could make out no signs of the Ylissean airborne forces that had attempted the rescue and their subsequent fight for their lives. Cordelia and Sumia, as Shepherds, had made it with everyone else, but…Shione was gone. Martin could only hope for the best. And if his friend was gone…

Martin passed by Marth, who had seemingly frozen, staring in horror where once the Exalt had stood. He sympathized.

"What…what the fuck just happened?" he asked himself, knowing no one could ever provide him with a satisfying answer. Emmeryn was dead, and there was no doubt in his mind that it was their fault.


	9. Chapter 9: Resignation and Rebirth

_Alright, this is a relatively short, but very important chapter. It's not short because of the timing (by the way, happy holidays for whatever you're celebrating), if that's what you're thinking. It kind of just is. Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy. This'll be the second chapter of three with no author's notes (and not just because I'm trying to figure out what to do with my ever expanding bio page…I explained last chapter). _

_Also, sorry a shorter chapter took so long. I got slammed by finals (including a research paper the size of my better chapters using mostly sources dating from before the Roman emperors), but that's no excuse. If I wanted to, I could have had this done before finals. I just had a hard time writing everything down. I finally realized that my idea to wait after the holidays was stupid because A, then I'd be giving you a gift late, and that's bad, and B, I'd be caught up in the holiday buzz anyway even afterwards._

_Anyway, let's get to it:_

* * *

The rain kicked up as soon as the palace had faded from sight. It was heavy and wet, the sort of rain Martin wouldn't have expected from a desert. It quickly turned the once arid soil into a quagmire, one that was making their progress through the ravine all the more difficult. On the bright side, it would only add to the confusion that was so far keeping the Plegian Royal Guard from pursuing them. The dark, brooding clouds and the rain were strangely fitting. Nature was mirroring how they were all feeling.

Emmeryn was dead. A fall from that height alone shouldn't have been survivable, but when it was combined with a blast of dark magic that had shattered rock and the debris that had fallen with her? How could anyone live through that?

It wasn't supposed to be this way. That blast of magic had been a retaliation, an attempt to make sure Emmeryn didn't leave alive. It wouldn't have happened if the Ylisseans Shione had rescued hadn't been there, if they had all died when they were originally supposed to.

And the worst part was that Emmeryn's death was the best thing that could have happened with these new circumstances. She wouldn't have sacrificed the lives of those knights for her own sake. She had managed to make a stirring and beautiful speech to her enemies. And now that she was dead, future events would proceed normally. Chrom would become the next Ylissean ruler, Plegia would be defeated, and everyone would honor Emmeryn's sacrifice without knowing just how unnecessary it was.

The tactician shook his head. How had they screwed everything up so very badly? What the hell had happened? A few months ago, his biggest concern had been finding something worth a plate of food and a warm bed. Now he was balancing the cost of lives and their effects on the future of this world.

As if it wasn't bad enough, there weren't even any lives he could hold Emmeryn's up against to say that it had been worth it, that her sacrifice had saved someone else. There had been no word from anyone on the rescue team. Even the ones who had survived the initial attack hadn't returned. Shione, too, was gone. He'd disappeared shortly before the pillar had fallen. If he was dead, if any of them were dead, Martin didn't know what he would do. Too much had gone wrong already. Too many had died needlessly.

Even as his thoughts whirled around endlessly, his feet kept moving forward, almost autonomously. The mud was everywhere. It slowed their progress to almost a crawl. But everyone struggled through it, pushed constantly by the fear of a Plegian counterattack and the desire to leave the palace and the nation.

"Hurry!" Basilio called out, at the head of the group. "There should be carriages waiting just through the ravine!" He was pushing through the muck to the best of his ability, and was making good progress. He was one of the few among them who didn't seem dazed and confused. Whether his long life had desensitized him to loss or he was just hiding his pain, Martin didn't know. But he was the only one who could be said to be still leading the group.

Chrom was walking with the rest of them, but it was clear his own mind was far away. He didn't say a word, or react to anything. All he did was move forward. Even that seemed to slow, and eventually he stood still.

"Chrom, please!" Robin called out to him.

With a groan, the prince stirred himself. He was barely holding together.

"I'm…I'm coming." He managed to say.

"What about all the missing?" Martin called out, finally compelled to say something. Were they just about to leave his friend behind?

"We can wait for them on the other side of the ravine. It does no one any good if we get trapped here." Basilio responded. "Quickly, now! We're almost…" He trailed off, noticing something ahead. Martin noticed it too. A pair of shapes that quickly resolved into aggressive Plegian soldiers, axes at the ready and scowls on their faces. They wore fur cloaks, sodden with rain, and their helmets dripped with moisture, but their attention was fully on the Ylisseans. Martin heard Basilio curse.

Chrom took notice, as well. Martin watched as his eyes narrowed, and his listlessness transformed into anger. He knew what was going through the prince's mind. Chrom had finally found something to blame for his sister's death, something to take his rage out on. Something to keep his mind from continuously reliving what had just happened.

"Plegians!" Basilio called out. Everyone took notice immediately, drawing weapons and readying defenses. Chrom wasn't the only one who wanted revenge. "I knew it couldn't be that easy…they're right in our way! We must fight!"

"Ylisseans!" A voice called out, and Martin paused. The speaker hadn't sounded spiteful or angry, something he had come to expect from the men Gangrel sent to face them. The man who stepped out of the fog was dressed like a Berserker, but he was far from unkempt. His beard was well trimmed and his hair was clean-shaven. His scarred face was grim, but not harsh. He approached with a bearing that could have been called noble. He neared his Ylissean enemies and watched impassively, his feet firmly planted and his arms behind his back.

"I offer you mercy!" He called out. That had to be a first. No one had called them dogs or curs yet, either. "Surrender to me now and live!"

"Surrender?" Basilio called out gruffly. "Sorry, I'm not familiar with the word." Martin prepared for a fight, but the Plegian's response caught him off guard.

"Emmeryn would not have wished for this to come to bloodshed." The man answered, calmly.

"Don't speak her name!" Chrom immediately cried out, furious. Martin couldn't say he blamed him. Was this guy trying to bait them? But then he saw the man's expression sadden

"Your rage is justified, Prince Chrom." He shook his head sadly. "But the meaning of your sister's final sacrifice was not lost on me. I suspect many Plegians who heard her final words would say the same. If you lay down your weapons, I vow to protect you as best I can." They couldn't surrender, of course. Even if he was telling the truth, it would doom Ylisse. But this man wasn't like the others. He had a sense of dignity that the other Plegian leaders they had encountered lacked. So why was he with them?

"How can we trust you after what your barbarous king has done?" Frederick echoed what everyone was thinking. Even his stern but stoic demeanor had been phased. "I think we shall take our chance with weapons in hand!"

"I suspected you'd say as much." The Plegian replied, taking a long, slow breath. "So be it, Prince Chrom. I shall endeavor to grant you a swift and dignified end." He turned and walked away before anyone could react, no doubt to fortify his position. But his men were still here, and they seemed ready for battle.

Martin readied his spellbook, the rain dripping right off the enchanted pages. But he couldn't focus. He wasn't angry or vengeful like the others…just terribly sad. Even now, at their lowest point, the fights just kept coming. The peace Emmeryn would have wanted wouldn't come.

* * *

Kellam was glad for the rain. He didn't want anyone to know that he was on the verge of tears. Not that they would have noticed anyway. He was practically invisible, even to his friends. Of course he noticed the constant confusion about his presence, or rather the lack of it. He saw everyone look right through him. Even the constant clank of his heavy armor did nothing. Of course, whenever he talked to people, he played everything off like he didn't notice, or care, or thought it was funny. In truth, he was sometimes even proud of how easily he could pass unnoticed. But every now and then, he realized how much it hurt that no one knew his face. Even their strange allies from across the sea had done a better job of knowing when he was around than his own comrades had.

Not the Exalt, though. He hadn't ever talked to her, but she had been a common sight around the capital. Whenever she had passed, she had always graced him with the most beautifully honest and serene smile. It had been at him, he was sure. The first time, he was sure it had been a mistake. He looked all around him to find who she must have been looking at. But he had been alone. When he turned back to her, she had nodded at him, as if to ensure him she was looking his way. She had recognized him! Even after that day, she always seemed to know when the knight was there. She couldn't have known who he was beyond that he was a Shepherd, but she had seen him when no one else had.

Now, that serene smile was gone. And so Kellam wept for someone he had barely known.

He stopped slogging through the mud with everyone else, watched as a pair of Plegian soldiers appeared out of the driving rain in front of them, and readied his lance with the others. He had watched on as the enemy general had made his speech. But he hadn't heard it. Instead, he struggled with his emotions, and slowly his sadness turned to rage. Rage at the people who had killed Ylisse's Exalt, the ones who had hurt his friends, even at everyone who looked right through him. And so when the battle began, he charged.

The pair of brigands barely had time to react when the massive wall of metal and rage charged through the rain. The first one had almost readied his weapon when Kellam cried out.

"Come on, look at me!" He heard himself cry, his voice full of anger and grief. He threw his full weight behind his lance as he struck the Plegian, killing them instantly. The brigand's ally had already started his attack, but Kellam was prepared. He brought up his shield, blocking the blow, and then drove it forward in a bashing attack, staggering his attacker. With another cry, Kellam turned to face him and struck at the Plegian. His momentum drove the now dead soldier to the ground, and Kellam fell with him.

He hit the ground, and lay there for a few moments, suddenly exhausted. He…he had stopped them. They wouldn't hurt his friends. Then, for a few moments, all he could hear was the rain pounding on his armor. Then footsteps. A hand on his back.

"Kellam! Kellam, you damned pip-squeak. You better be alright." With a great deal of effort, he rolled himself over. Through the rain, he could see Sully, scowling at him. And yet…was that concern?

"I'm…okay. I don't know what came over me." The cavalier held out her hand, and he grasped it. A few moments later, the knight was standing upright.

"I'll say. That was impressive, even to me. Almost scary, even, you damned idiot." Had he made an impression? Kellam looked around, only to find that everyone was staring at him. There were no Plegians here. They had probably fallen back and fortified their positions.

Chrom was the first to recover, clearing his throat. He signaled, and the rest of the Shepherds took up their positions. But Kellam knew from the glances they threw him that he had made an impression.

He would do everything in his power to keep them safe, even if they didn't see him. He would be their invisible shield. Emmeryn had given her life to protect them all. He would not falter if he had to do the same.

* * *

The Prince of Ylisse stared out across the battlefield while Robin formulated a plan of attack. Crown Prince…could he really call himself that anymore? He was no Exalt. He could never replace his sister. But could he even claim the title of prince, when he had failed to protect the one thing closest to him?

"Prince Chrom." He turned to the source of the call. It was Cainne. Something about her seemed familiar to him…and then he realized. She seemed possessed by the same anger, the same sorrow, that he felt all too acutely.

"Prince Chrom, I would like your permission to face the enemy's general."

"What?"

"If we can neutralize him, the rest of the Plegians won't stand against us. We can pass through unopposed, without a fight."

"No. It's far too risky." Chrom replied. "Besides-"

"Besides, what?" She cut him off. "The Plegians need to pay? You need revenge for your sister? You know that Emmeryn would-"

"Don't!" Chrom yelled. "Don't you dare speak like you knew her!"

"You aren't the only one who feels her loss, sir." Cainne replied, her voice losing the sharp edge it had held. "But she believed in peace even at the end. She would not have us needlessly slaughtering one another."

Chrom knew she was right. Emmeryn would have tried to prevent all this bloodshed. The anger he felt ebbed away.

"Fine…" he finally answered. "Go. We'll wait here, hold out as long as we can until Gangrel catches up to us." Cainne nodded, and left him alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Mustafa thought the rain was fitting. A day such as this didn't deserve sunlight or warmth. He knew that what had occurred was a tragedy, no matter how necessary. But he was a soldier, not a king. He would not question what had happened, and he certainly would not show his doubts to the men that counted on him.

And so when the Ylisseans had escaped the palace and a squad of wyverns had arrived at his front door with orders to stop them from leaving, he had accepted. Mustafa was in command of the only fort in the pass, along with its garrison. He and his soldiers, supplemented by the wyvern riders from the palace, were the only things stopping the Ylisseans from escaping. But the news of what had happened at the palace, what their Exalt had said, travelled with the wyverns, and now he could hear the grumblings of worry and discontent among his troops.

"Forgive me, sir," It was one of the newly arrived troops addressing him. The man was practically quaking with fear. "But I...I no longer see the justice in hunting these people down. I accept any punishment you see fit, but after all that's happened...I just can't." The man's resolve steadied as he went on, and though it was clear he feared retribution, he did not back down. Before Mustafa could reply, however, the solder's comrade spoke up.

"How dare you question the general's orders! You know full well the punishment for insubordination is death!"

"B-but, sir! These people are-" Mustafa cut him off.

"These questions are not ours to ponder, lad." Mustafa spoke calmly, with no anger in his voice. He felt sympathy for the man in front of him, even if he did not agree. "The soldier does not judge. The soldier delivers judgment."

"Sir, I..." It appeared he was not swayed. "I cannot raise my lance against them. Even if... Even if it means death." Why? What had caused this? Could it have been that…?

"...You were there when Emmeryn spoke, weren't you?" The soldier nodded, and Mustafa understood. "So be it! Those of you unwilling to fight are dismissed!"

"But I don't want to abandon you, sir!" This wasn't cowardice, then, or fear of the Ylisseans. The man wanted to be loyal, but he couldn't bring himself to fight the enemy, not with what he had heard. From what Mustafa had gleaned from the others who had seen it, he himself couldn't fault the man. He didn't think this war was just any more than this poor soldier, not any more. And yet…

"I cannot defy the king, lad. I know him well. He would murder my wife and child to set an example. I will accept the blame for your actions today. Now go!" For a moment, the young man could only stare in awe at Mustafa.

"W-wait, General!" He finally stammered out. "I see a cause worth fighting for, one I believe in: loyalty to my general." Mustafa smiled at that.

The rain seemed different, now. It was still somber, yes, but at the same time, Mustafa could almost imagine that it was washing away old burdens. He and his men were not fighting for the king who sat on the throne, but for their country, their family, and each other. The Ylisseans, too, now had something to fight for.

Whoever walked out of this valley would be those whose conviction proved stronger. Whoever failed here would be remembered by their people as heroes. The fate of two nations rested on what happened next. Mustafa knew it, and he knew the Ylisseans did as well.

And so, when he noticed the Ylissean standing on the edge of the cliff above, staring at him, Mustafa knew his conviction would not be enough to win this fight.

He realized that he was prepared to die, if it meant fighting for something he believed in.

He realized that his country would think of them as heroes, and that his family would live well even when he was gone.

He realized that their deaths here would mean that Ylisse lived another day, and in the face of what the Exalt had said, he wasn't so sure that was a bad thing.

And so, he would welcome his fate with open arms, as was the way with his people and all those who worshipped the Fell Dragon. He could not change it.

But he would not let the Ylisseans win so easily.

* * *

Cainne watched the Plegians prepare for battle from overhead. She had been lucky enough to find a path up one of the large hills in the center of the valley, and had avoided most of the soldiers who were arrayed against her friends. Now she was able to look down on their last line of defense. She could even see the general who had first challenged them, the one whom she had told Chrom she would neutralize.

Even through the rainfall, she was able to hear the conversation he had with his subordinate, and her path became clear. Then he looked up, and his eyes locked onto hers.

"So, then, have you come to kill me?" He called out, and his troops took notice. Suddenly, every eye was on her. She leapt down the cliff face, to the nearest wall, and then into the courtyard, facing him. He seemed surprised by her agility, or perhaps by her non-human nature, but he stood his ground.

"I would see that no more harm befalls my friends." He nodded.

"I am General Mustafa of Plegia." He told her, and drew his axe. "If you wish to keep your lives, then you must win them."

"Hold, general!" She called out, before he could attack. "I would offer you the same mercy you offered us. Lay down your arms, and we will leave you be."

"Is that so?" Mustafa replied after a moment, surprised. "Do you speak for the rest of the Ylisseans?"

"I speak for no one but myself, but it is what Emmeryn would have wanted. She gave her life hoping for peace."

"And yet, it is my king that killed her. Why would you offer us mercy?"

"Why would you offer those who just stormed your own capital the same kindness? I have heard how you treat your men, and who you fight for. If you fear for the safety of your family, why stop the people who have the best chance at casting down the king who would harm them?" At this, the general paused for a long moment before replying.

"I wish it were that simple, Ylissean." He shook his head sadly. "But if I did as you suggest, it would be too late for them. Even if you were to dethrone Gangrel tomorrow, his wrath is swift. And there will always be another to take his place." Then, his expression hardened. "I fight for my family and my country, something I am sure your prince understands well. And neither would have me back down."

"Then, if there will be no persuading you, I challenge you." At this the general paused. Cainne continued. "Only you and I need to fight. No one else needs to die. Whoever falls, their forces surrender." Mustafa stopped to consider this. And then, he nodded.

"So be it, Ylissean. We shall meet here in one hour, and decide this. Convince your leader to follow your lead and have your allies stand down. I shall do the same and we will meet here."

* * *

"What are you doing?" The Plegians had offered Cainne a room in a far tower in which she could prepare, so that neither combatant would have an upper hand due to fatigue or cold from the rain. She was under guard, of course, for any sabotage, but they had been courteous. And as for Lyta, she hadn't needed anyone's permission to find Cainne.

"What I think is right." Cainne replied. Lyta buried her head in her hands.

"You're meddling in affairs that aren't yours to meddle in. Need I remind you that we're here to find Aiden and get home? That's it. Nothing else."

"That's why we were here, the four of us. But I joined the shepherds because I wanted to help. Now…now so much has happened. Because we were here."

"Because we interfered when we shouldn't have. All of this happened because of us."

"So I'm going to set things right." Cainne answered. "We have spent too much time trying to tread the line between interfering and keeping things the way they were. And that's why the Exalt is dead. We can't tread that line anymore. And if I have to choose, I'm choosing to make a difference."

"You're set on this, then." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Then the door to the tower opened.

"Ylisseans," the soldier stated. "It's time."

Somehow, Cainne had convinced the prince to follow along. He hadn't necessarily agreed, but he hadn't disagreed, either. In his current state, Chrom had decided against passing judgement. Robin, as tactician, was in control of the army, and he had thought the idea was good enough.

So they sheathed their weapons and marched to the fort, wary of a trap. But Mustafa had kept to his word. He had also ensured them that further reinforcements from the palace would not arrive, as far as he knew. Gangrel had thrown his lot in with their garrison, and their garrison alone. Now the Shepherds were encamped outside while Cainne prepared.

Robin's only worry was the possibility that Cainne lost. He'd asked her what they were supposed to do if they had to surrender. He couldn't stomach the idea of falling into Gangrel's custody, but starting a skirmish would negate the entire reason both sides had entrusted their fates to two individuals.

Cainne had simply responded that she wouldn't lose.

In truth, she had no idea what would happen if she lost. If that came about, it wouldn't concern her any longer, as the duel was supposed to be to the death. But everyone had entrusted their freedom to her. It was a responsibility she did not take lightly.

Why had she done this? She was still asking herself that. She couldn't justify another bloody battle so soon after Emmeryn's speech. She was weary of the bloodshed. And though she didn't talk about it, she felt Shione's absence deeply. Even if that clown was constantly on her nerves, he had always been loyal. He had been there, when and wherever there was. Now…she desperately hoped he was merely lost.

But the heart of the matter was one simple fact. Emmeryn had given her life for a cause she believed in. Cainne could do no less.

She walked outside into the rain-soaked courtyard. Mustafa was there already, standing at the opposite end of the square, gaze unflinching. Mud squelched under the Taguel's feet as she crossed the field, turning to face him. A ragged cheer echoed halfheartedly through the air. Apparently a few of the Shepherds had managed to convince the Plegians to allow them to watch.

"Are you ready?" The general asked.

"If there is nothing else I can do to dissuade you." Cainne replied. The general smiled, then turned his gaze to the crowd who watched from above.

"Soldiers of both nations! We fight here to avoid greater bloodshed, in the name of an Exalt who only wished for peace. Should I fall, I would expect you, my soldiers, to follow my orders and lay down your arms. I would only ask that the Ylisseans spare my men. Should I prevail, I will do my best to ensure that they, and their country, remain unharmed. For though fate would have us meet as foes, we must remember that all of us, no matter who, fight for what we believe is right."

Then silence hung over the courtyard. It seemed no one even dared breathe. Cainne readied her lance. Someone, somewhere, rang a bell, and Mustafa was on her.

He moved incredibly quickly, leaping through the air almost instantly after the bell rang. Cainne barely had time to roll to the side as the axe cleaved the air where she had been. The Plegian general did not relent, taking advantage of his momentum. He came at her from all directions, swinging and thrusting with his axe almost inhumanly quickly. Cainne didn't have an opportunity to raise her weapon, let alone fight back.

Then, as she dove away from another strike, her back hit the wall. Mustafa swung at her head, and she ducked. The axe clanged off the stonework, and in that momentary pause, Cainne sprung out of her crouch straight at Mustafa. She hit his chest straight on and knocked him over, unbalanced as he was from the swing. Cainne kept going, ducking into a roll and landing on her feet. She turned around, spear in hand. Surprisingly, Mustafa was already on his feet.

Now it was her turn to be on the offensive. She lunged at him, knowing that she had to end this quickly before he could attack again. Blow after blow rained down on the Plegian, one flowing into another, but none connected. What he couldn't dodge, he met with the head of his axe or a bone plate. Then, Cainne stepped back. Mustafa quickly opened the distance between them. He was prepared to avoid the spear that was thrown at him. But it distracted him enough that he didn't react in time to avoid a few hundred pounds of angry Taguel that suddenly charged him.

Cainne's beastly forehead collided with the berserker, driving him towards the wall. If she could pin him there…but it was not to be. Mustafa actually grabbed onto his attacker, and attempted to pull himself onto the Taguel's back. She'd be defenseless. She leapt and shook her head to the side, throwing him off. He landed in the mud, and Cainne immediately reverted to her human form and grabbed her lance, not far away from where she had stopped. She couldn't let that happen again.

She barely brought it up in time to deflect his next attack. Damn, but he was fast! She had expected recklessness from a berserker, but he fought with purpose and planning, the same qualities that she supposed had earned him his position. She batted away strike after strike with the handle of her lance.

He swung from high, again. She held her weapon over her head. It stopped the blow, but the handle shattered. The force of the hit drove her to kneel. Mustafa leapt back, instinctively reacting to the cracking wood and the splinters that had been sent flying. Cainne hung her head, and her arms dropped to her side…these damned shoddy lances would get her killed.

The rain continued to pour down. Cainne felt it dripping off of her face. Emmeryn…Shione, Aiden…everyone. They'd all be caught, forced to surrender by her foolish attempt to save lives.

Mustafa approached, still wary. He knew his opponent wasn't human, that she didn't need a lance to fight. And yet, she wasn't moving. Had he landed that last blow?

What an irony, Cainne thought as Mustafa drew close, to be killed not by the most ruthless and vicious Plegian soldiers, but by the commander who only wanted the best for his people. But then, that was how conviction worked. It was why Chrom fought, why the Shepherds and her friends stood by him. It was what had made Emmeryn sacrifice herself.

Cainne had to make things right. And that all depended on the next few seconds.

Mustafa approached, still wary. He raised his axe. Cainne's hand went to her amulet, and the resulting flash blinded Mustafa. The now transformed Taguel flipped over in midair, and suddenly Mustafa found himself propelled across the arena by the force of Cainne's kick. Then, just as suddenly, she changed back. She charged at him before he could recover, delivering a withering flurry of blows. She used the shattered halves of her lance like two individual weapons, battering him with the solid end and driving him to the wall while fending him off with the lance's tip. In seconds, Cainne had the Plegian general pinned against the stone. One end of the lance pinned his arm, the axe having fallen to the ground. The bladed end was against his throat.

He blinked, clearing his eyes. Then, once he gathered his bearings, he closed them again, and nodded.

"Please, let this be the end." Cainne said, making sure to keep the pressure on his throat. "Surrender, and we can all walk away from this."

"We are far past that point. I'm sorry." The general took a deep breath. "Please, spare my men. Hold to your word."

The sound of a large flying creature passed overhead. Cainne didn't dare take her gaze off of Mustafa. But he seemed almost…resigned to his fate. It almost even seemed that he had a slight smile on his face as he faced death. Cainne braced herself. She…she had to end this.

"W-w-wait! Ylisseans, hold!" Cainne turned to face the speaker. It was a wyvern rider, just landed. That had been what she had heard fly overhead. He wasn't dressed for war…in fact, he seemed young. He was fumbling around with a bag strapped to his back. "I-I bring word from the King!" The lad was trembling as he pulled a parchment out of the sack. He tried to open it, oblivious to the fact that it was already being soaked through. "It's for the Ylisseans! General, you-you'll want to hear it too!"

"Boy," the general, still pinned against the wall, tried to speak past the spear point. "I'm a bit busy. Doubt anything the King could say will change much at this point. The best course of action you could take would be to leave."

"N-n-no, sir! You need to hear this! Th-the King of Plegia orders all soldiers involved in the operations against Ylisse to-to stand down! He extends a formal apology to Prince Chrom and the nation of Ylisse for the events earlier this day, and requests a chance to discuss peace! Until that point, all Plegian troops are ordered to stand down, and he hopes the Ylisseans will agree to at least a temporary ceasefire!"

"What!?" Cainne wasn't sure who had shouted. At this point, she supposed it didn't matter. Every one of them had to be thinking it. The Mad King…wanted peace? Cainne stepped back from the wall, letting Mustafa fall to the ground. She gazed at him. The man was shocked, and she couldn't blame him.

"This from the country who would not have you back down, general? I believe the rules of this war have just changed."

* * *

Camp was set up just beyond the ravine. True to Basilio's word, his servant Olivia had been ready with transport out of Plegia. The main body of the Feroxi army had long ago left, after providing the distraction for the failed rescue attempt. But now, with the Mad King's request for a ceasefire and peace talks, the Shepherds were unsure if leaving the country was necessary.

"Milord, this is obviously a trap! He plans to draw you in so the Fire Emblem does not leave Plegian soil!" Frederick argued. "I should have died before allowing the Exalt to be captured. I not allow the same mistake to happen to you!"

"So what now, oaf?" Flavia asked in the meantime, turning her gaze to Basilio. "Has the Mad King ever done something like this?"

"Don't look at me, I'm not in charge anymore!" Basilio quickly shot back.

"I picked a fine time to regain the full throne." She closed her eyes.

"Maybe…maybe Emmeryn's…er, perhaps Gangrel was affected by the Exalt." Robin told Chrom, stepping around the issue.

"You did your best, Robin," Chrom replied, cutting straight to the issue Robin had avoided. "You have my thanks. It's my own failures that haunt me now. And now this…Gods, I'm just so powerless…"

"It's not your fault either, Chrom." Robin immediately answered. Chrom looked at him, and shook his head.

"She did it for me, Robin." Chrom slowly answered. "So that I wouldn't have to live with the guilt of either choice, she chose for me. She sacrificed herself rather than give up what could one day save her people… But now, can I justify walking the emblem right back into Plegian hands because of some hope that she changed things? Or do I walk away now and give up on what she had dreamed of?" He cast his gaze downward. To Robin, he seemed to sink in on himself.

"Chrom…" Robin called out softly. "Listen to me. Look at me." When the prince slowly returned his gaze, he knew what to say.

"I was powerless once, too, remember? And yes, alone, I don't think either one of us is half the person your sister was." The tactician began. "But together...maybe we can be something more. If you fall, I'll be there to pull you back up. When you fight for your sister's ideals, I'll be by your side. You don't have to become your sister, you know. You can still be true to yourself. You just have to give people hope in whatever way you can. And whatever decision you make now, I'll stand with you."

"And what if I can't? Chrom lashed out. "What if I'm not worthy of her ideals? What if I fail? Robin, what if I drag you down with me?"

"If you aren't worthy, you'll keep at it until you are." Robin replied with confidence that surprised even himself. "And if we both fall down… well, that's what friends are for, isn't it?" And for once, Robin even cracked a smile. Chrom didn't have a chance to reply when he was cut off.

"That's right." Nowi chimed in. "I wouldn't even be here if not for you."

"You gave me your trust, and now you have mine." Tharja added. "For the time being."

"Were you unworthy, I would have left long ago." Lon'qu stated matter-of-factly.

What followed was a great outpouring of support for Chrom, one which he had sorely needed. One which, truth be told, everyone in the room had needed. The Shepherds had entered the canyon pass disjointed and grieving, but now they had a reason to fight. Martin, who had been listening in with the rest, would have added his own support, were it not for Lyta suddenly appearing behind him, tugging quietly but insistently on his and Maribelle's shoulder. Not wishing to interrupt, they quietly exited the tent.

"Good, you came." The Plegian soldier told the three as they approached. "The victor of the duel wanted your help." The rain had slackened now, and the storm would soon pass. The sun had already been revealed close to the horizon, illuminating the cliffs.

"Really?" Maribelle asked. "What could you all possibly want?"

"A few pegasus riders showed up just now, over the canyon. They refuse to talk to us or believe us in the first place, but they look like they're in a bad way. They might need healing," The soldier looked at Maribelle, "and the lady said they might talk to you two." He finished, looking at Martin and Lyta, before pointing towards the canyon mouth. Martin could make out Cainne, waving. But she wasn't looking at them.

Martin and Lyta rushed over to her side. She acknowledged them with a nod, then set her sights back on the mouth of the canyon. Martin stared, but couldn't find anything that she could be looking at. And then, suddenly, there was movement atop the cliff. Slowly, a familiar form materialized. He was battered and covered in filth, but Martin recognized the poleaxe and the pegasus that appeared behind him. Within a minute, Shione had rode Anem down to ground level, and dismounted a few feet away from his friends.

"Hey, he said, cracking a short-lived grin before his gaze fell. "I guess you guys miss-" His words were cut off when he was nearly bowled over by a heavily armored Taguel. He was too surprised to react when Cainne engulfed him in a hug. Martin just stared.

"Uh…okay, now I know I must have hit my head." Shione finally said. "The demon bunny showing compassion?"

"Can you just shut up for once?" Cainne replied, her voice muffled as she buried her face in the cloth around his shoulder. And for a moment, he did.

Finally, she backed away, holding him by his shoulders at arm's length. "If you ever run off on us and get lost again, I will not hesitate to hunt you down."

"There's the Cainne I know." Shione replied, before wisely stepping back. Then, the sound of sniffling caught his attention. "Martin, are you crying?"

"Uh, no!" The tactician responded. "It's just really rainy here, and…oh, hell. It's been a really intense day, alright?" Martin followed this by engulfing the pegasus knight with a bear hug, knocking the wind out of the beleaguered Shione.

"Easy, easy!" Shione called out. "I'm hurt!" Martin let him go, and Shione regained his composure. "Are we done? Because I've got two others waiting on me up there, and a captain who's in serious need of medical attention." This got Maribelle's attention.

Within minutes, thanks to her calm yet intimidating demeanor, Maribelle managed to secure herself a medical tent in which to care for the grievously wounded Captain Phila within minutes. That both Phila and Thaneta, along with one other pegasus knight from the rescue, had survived, albeit with major injuries, was a shock to the other three Shepherds present. When Cainne asked him what had happened between the rescue attempt and the reunion, Shione had merely said they would discuss it later.

"It wasn't very interesting. A lot of avoiding Plegians, mostly. But listen, something came up just before all hell broke loose. Aiden was there."

"Aiden!?" Cainne responded, barely keeping her voice below a shout. "Where? How?"

"I don't know where he got off to. It was a struggle rallying everyone else, and he had already disappeared." Shione replied. "But he said you'd meet again, on his terms."

"Oh, like hell we are!" Martin said. "We're gonna find him, and we're gonna do it soon." It was at this moment that a signal rang out. Everyone was being summoned to the command tent. Chrom and the others had made a decision. "Or, you know, we can find him after this whole war thing is dealt with."

* * *

"Tomorrow, we return to the palace." Chrom started off. There were no murmurs or calls of alarm; rather, most of the Shepherds had been in the room, adding their opinions to the discussion when Chrom had decided. "Most likely, it is a trap. But if it is a trap, then I know we will be able to fight through it. More importantly, I will not be a coward like our enemy. I will also not let myself be consumed by vengeance. My sister gave her life for an ideal, that there could be peace between our people. I will not turn my back on any chance, no matter how slight, to see that dream become reality. Thank you all for helping me realize this."

"Milord!" a gruff voice called out. Its owner, the Plegian general Mustafa, approached the prince. "I cannot speak for what the king may be planning. But as far as I am concerned, our orders to maintain a ceasefire are earnest. If you would have us, my men will accompany you to the Plegian capital, to ensure you don't encounter any…unwelcome company."

"And if you're not so foolhardy as to fall for the same thing twice," Flavia stated, "My people will hold onto the Emblem until you return, ensure that it is safe."

"You are, after all, taking my best dancer!" Basilio added with a laugh. "It's only fair we get something in return."

"Thank you," Chrom replied. "But the Emblem is the responsibility of Ylisse. We will care for it, and not even the Mad King will take it from our people. I do not know what Emmeryn thought the Emblem could be used for, but it is a symbol of hope to our people. We will bear it with us, and bring the hopes of our people as well." He turned to the Plegian. "As for you…we have been on opposite sides for a long time. I can't forgive what your nation has done to mine. But I will try to bridge the divide, for her sake. This responsibility falls to me and the Shepherds, we would not see you and your people put in further danger." Mustafa nodded, and backed away.

"All right, enough talk!" Basilio roared. "We're ending this, one way or another. And if Gangrel thinks we'll fall for another trap while we're still licking our wounds, he's got another thing coming!"

"Let him try." Chrom answered. "If it comes to it, I'm ready to dethrone the mad King, once and for all."

In the crowd, Shione turned to Cainne.

"I leave for a few hours, and you've challenged a general to a duel, the Plegians called a ceasefire, the Mad King wants peace talks, and Chrom is about to go charging off to deliver them? We're in way over our heads here. This isn't the history I remember."

"I know." Cainne answered. "Exciting, isn't it?" Shione just nodded.


	10. Chapter 10: Endings and Beginnings

_Ha ha! Chapter 10, also known as chapter 11 in-game. This marks the closing of the first section of the game, and it will be as such here. However, you may have realized by now that events are going to take a drastically different turn than the game, at least for the moment. In addition, it would be foolish of me to just leave that two-year time jump alone. Things will be occurring during this time, though I still haven't actually solidified my plans. The frequency and pacing of events, and therefore chapters, may vary, but I will try to make the passage of time clear until we eventually reach where the game would pick back up._

_Also, Author's notes will be updated with this chapter, but you may have to give me some time: I'll have to go through three chapter's worth of material, and my memory isn't THAT great. I'm also going to need to figure out what to do with this stuff, as my profile page grows more and more unwieldy. If you have suggestions, I'd like to hear them, otherwise I'll probably just wind up wiping that board clean as we progress through the time-jump._

_Also, the North American version of Fire Emblem: Fates got released. You have Conquest to thank for why this chapter wasn't out a week ago…well, that and a really busy schedule. I'm predicting that classwork and a playthrough of Birthright (thank god, grinding. Support conversations and high levels, here I come) will keep me busy. Nevertheless, I will try to keep on schedule for a new chapter a month (meaning you'll get one about every two months, the missed deadline is what keeps me motivated. I'm sorry I'm such crap). As for Fates itself in regard to this story, well…there might be a few fun things thrown in here and there. From what little I know of Revelations (that's on purpose, I don't want spoilers), it could be possible that some of the lore elements there could come into play eventually. Also, the free "Before Awakening" DLC for the game is just too fun, and too interesting, not to at least joke about._

_But let's get back on topic. I hope you like it:_

* * *

It hadn't been a good day for Lieutenant Prodot's soldiers. They'd been sent out by request of the King himself at the break of dawn with orders to determine what had become of General Mustafa's garrison, and to make contact with the retreating Ylissean forces, if at all possible. The job, for all its importance, had seemed simple enough, though the lieutenant had worried what would happen to his small force if they stumbled across Ylissean or Feroxi forces that decided to continue hostilities. It had been midday when they had discovered they had more imminent danger to deal with.

Now, his men were pinned down and outnumbered, not by Ylisseans, but by his own countrymen. At least, they seemed Plegian. It could have been some sort of trick. But what truly worried the lieutenant was the Risen that accompanied them. They were kept separate from the human attackers, but nevertheless seemed to be under the enemy's control.

The "enemy". Was that what he was facing? Could he call his own countrymen foes? Unfortunately, The Lieutenant could hardly stand around and wait to see if this was some sort of mistake while his troops were killed around him.

Their tactical position was precarious at best. They'd walked into the canyon pass, following the trail the Ylisseans had made the day before. They had made it about halfway when archers had appeared on the edges of the canyon walls above them and started firing. Now his soldiers were hiding under whatever they could, doing their best to put solid cover between themselves and the enemy arrows.

The far wall seemed to be where the main concentration of enemy troops was located. The near wall, on the other hand, was occupied only by a small handful of Risen. Perhaps the ambush hadn't been fully prepared when Prodot's men had arrived? And yet, the small group of undead couldn't be ignored: the best cover against most of the opposition would also leave his men wide open to an attack from the Risen. They had to go.

Prodot tightened his grip on the shield he carried, and started to run. The enemy shifted focus as soon as he was in the open, but he was lucky. Only one arrow managed to glance off of his upraised shield before he was able to slide behind the rock one of his archers was crouched behind. The enemy must have been trained to fire in volleys. The tactic worked when fighting out in the open or in an ambush, but massed fire wasn't so effective against quick, single targets.

"We need to take out the Risen on the near wall, clear our flank and set up a defensive position. Think you can do that?" His small detachment didn't have the luxury of having enough men to allow for massed fire. As a result, the two or three archers he still had left were far more adept at taking out individual targets. It was common to deploy archers based on the situation, and so the Plegian military provided training in both styles of ranged combat.

The soldier nodded, and picked up his bow. He couldn't exactly stand up and draw his bow fully back while trying to keep covered, but the man was well trained enough to start launching shots at the Risen. The other range-capable soldiers still alive got the message quickly enough, and soon the Lieutenant had the satisfaction of watching one Risen drop, and then another, and then another.

If things went well, Prodot's forces could take advantage of their empty flank to dig in and wait out the enemy. The way those fools were firing, they'd run out of arrows long before Prodot ran out of patience. What had the enemy commander been thinking, letting their troops continue to fire long after Prodot had found cover? Granted, it was keeping his men from moving much, but unless the enemy was willing to come down into the canyon and fight in close quarters, it wouldn't matter…

"Ah, shit." The Lieutenant whispered to himself.

"Sir?" the archer paused, looking at him inquisitively. Then they both heard it. Metal clattering and boots thumping into the dirt as soldiers climbed over the canyon lip and climbed down to the bottom. Prodot watched as a few of the daring among them, or maybe the less living, he couldn't tell, just jumped directly down. The bastards were certainly brave. And the worst part was that he couldn't do anything about it.

"Keep your focus on the Risen above, I don't want to be attacked from behind. We'll deal with these ones as soon as the others are down!"

The archer nodded, and turned back to his targets.

Prodot signaled to the rest of his men, at least those that hadn't already seen the new threat. They had been weakened by the attack, and trying to engage in melee combat while staying in cover wouldn't be easy. But they didn't exactly have much of a choice.

The first hostiles to charge in were the same ones who had jumped off the cliff. Sure enough, they had the twisted features and discolored skin of Risen. They charged at Prodot's position without caution. No doubt the humans attacking them meant to use the Risen as fodder, letting them weaken his forces before finishing the job.

One charged directly towards the rock he was hiding behind, aiming to strike at the distracted archer. Prodot stuck his leg out as it passed, tripping the clumsy creature. He stabbed it in the back of the head with his knife before it could recover.

A quick glance revealed that the rest of his men weren't so lucky. They were isolated from each other and being bombarded by arrows-it would take a miracle to do well in these conditions. He saw one of his swordsmen who had been taking shelter duck a blow from a Risen, then turn and run the thing through, using its body as further cover against enemy fire. Another soldier found himself between his attacker and the hostile bowmen, and paid the price for it. Prodot winced as he fell.

"Sir! The flank is clear!" the bowman next to him called out. Finally, some good luck.

"Then start hitting every Risen bastard you can find!" Prodot yelled. Then, he decided to take a note from the swordsman's book, and ran out of cover towards the nearest undead he could find. His lance had been useless when hiding crouched behind a rock, but it served just well against an enemy out in the open. He didn't slow once he hit the creature, but instead kept going, towards where the majority of the fighting was occurring. He felt an arrow hit the creature as he charged. It was gruesome, but effective.

To the Lieutenant's amazement, however, he barely had time to get into cover before his shield dissipated in a cloud of black smoke. Apparently, whatever magic had raised them didn't last long after they were killed again.

That didn't apply to the next foe he found approaching his position, however. It seemed that their human foes had finally decided they were weak enough. Sure enough, they wore Plegian uniforms, but the emblems on their clothing were anything but standard. These foes wore the symbols of the Grimleal mages, designs featuring six eyes and strange runes, proudly. To Prodot, it just made them easier to differentiate from his own men.

He stood up and leveled his lance, taking care to keep the enemy soldier between himself and the archers. The Grimleal, if that was what he was, in turn tried to get around Prodot's side. The Lieutenant batted away a sword strike, but couldn't lunge at the soldier without exposing himself. Normally, he would have the advantage of the lance's relative range, but he couldn't stay far away from the enemy without becoming a pincushion.

Then, without warning, the enemy soldier fell at him. Prodot backed off, assuming it was a feint, and then took cover behind his boulder once the Grimleal hit the ground. There was an arrow planted squarely between his shoulder blades. A glance revealed that, where a dozen Grimleal archers had stood, now there were only two, and neither wore Plegian uniforms. At least, not unless Plegian uniforms had become either very frilly or overly simple and dark. With the way this day had started, anything was possible.

The sound of boots announced the entrance of a dozen new fighters into the fray, charging from the direction of the canyon's exit. And at their head…

"Grima's bones…" Prodot said to himself. There stood the man they had been sent to find. The newcomer certainly struck a remarkable figure, with armor that gleamed silver and a shield that looked like it was made of gold. With blue hair and a legendary sword in his hand, there was no doubt in Prodot's mind as to his identity.

The newcomers routed the enemy almost immediately. They fought with determination and skill the likes of which Prodot had never seen, and suddenly he understood why this group had been such a problem for the Plegian Army. And now, they were saving him and his men.

"I…uh, eherm..." How did one approach the leader of what had once been a hostile nation and thank them for saving his life? "Prince Chrom, I…thank you. We weren't in a good situation. Lieutenant Prodot, Plegian Army." The look the Ylissean Prince gave him was not anger, as he had expected, or kindness, as he had desperately hoped, but confusion.

"To be honest," the Ylissean began, "I thought those soldiers were…well, a trap."

"Yeah, you have them to thank for us helping you out." The young man in the dark coat next to the Prince chimed in. "They attacked us, we counterattacked, and when we saw you…well, enemy of my enemy and all that. But, then…this wasn't a trap?"

"If it was, it wasn't a very good one." Prodot answered. "The King himself sent us out here first thing in the morning to find you and convince you that his intentions were sincere. If this was a trap, I don't know why he'd send us right into the firing line."

"You're in luck, Lieutenant." Prince Chrom answered. "Consider your mission accomplished, because we're headed exactly where Gangrel wants us to be. At the very least, so we can find out what just happened here."

* * *

Robin didn't bring up that Gangrel wouldn't be above sacrificing his own people in a ploy. He didn't, because right now, he had no idea what that ploy could be. Not to mention, this man seemed honest enough, at least as honest as any Plegian military soldier they'd met so far. But he still kept his hand on the handle of his sword. Robin noticed he wasn't the only one among the group to do so, either.

As they walked, Robin tried to make sense of the situation. He tried to think from the mad King's viewpoint, or at least he attempted to do so. Could anyone really understand that man's thought process? There had to be something going on here. Plegians didn't suddenly turn on each other. For that matter, Mad Kings didn't suddenly want peace. Just what was going on behind the scenes? What didn't Robin know?

He was almost so distracted that he didn't notice when they stopped. The sight that greeted Robin when he looked up was all too familiar. The palace loomed in the distance, the enormous skull it overlooked and the courtyard just as they had been the day before. The flames and rubble that was strewn about everywhere, however, were new, as were the skirmishes visible all throughout the city. It became very clear that whatever had occurred in the canyon was no isolated event. The Plegian army was imploding upon itself, and the capital burned.

Their arrival was not unnoticed. A Plegian soldier, one of high rank by his uniform, approached them. He seemed to have been part of the battles all around them, if his worn and tired appearance were anything to judge by. But his armor bore no marks relating him to the Grimleal that had attacked them, and he viewed the Ylisseans more with hope than fear.

"Thank the gods! You don't know how glad I am to see you!" The soldier said, sprinting over. He stopped in front of Chrom to catch his breath before noticing the Plegian lieutenant, and turning to face his peer. "You loyal to the king?"

"Er, yes sir!" The Lieutenant replied, saluting his superior officer.

"That makes one of us," the officer answered halfheartedly. "But you'll do." Then, he turned back to the Prince. "Milord, I had no hand in the events of yesterday, but I regret them nonetheless. What the Exalt did…because of her, my entire detachment was prepared to lay down our arms and defy our orders, if it meant peace. We didn't exactly expect that our biggest supporter would be the King himself."

"Emmeryn…" Robin heard Chrom mutter to himself, his eyes widening.

"Not everyone was so happy with the decision" the Plegian officer continued. "As far as we can tell, someone, likely a high-ranking advisor, was…displeased. They staged a coup at the Palace, and there's been no word about the King since then. We don't know how long they've been planning this, but they have support from a fair portion of the former Plegian military forces. Now, everyone still loyal to the king are working with everyone who want peace to try and hold them back, maybe break into the Palace if possible."

"Meaning," Robin cut in, "That you want out help?"

"It'd certainly be appreciated." The officer replied. "Combined, we outnumber the coup forces, but they've got the support of some of the best forces in Plegia, not to mention the Grimleal mages. We haven't been able to make much progress, and they've essentially pushed us out of the entire inner city and the palace. Our command structure is fractured, we've got no supply line, and we don't even know if the Mad King is a hostage, dead, or on their side…we need to end this soon."

"Don't worry, this ends now." Chrom spoke up. "One way or the other, everything that has happened will end today."

"One question," Robin asked. "How do we tell the good guys from the bad?"

"We've been trying to figure that out ourselves. So far, the coup forces have kept the imagery that ties them to the Grimleal mages in charge of this whole thing. Source of pride or something. We got rid of as much of that stuff as possible, but there's nothing to stop a double agent from dressing like us, or for a group on our side to not have gotten the news. Best identifier I've found is how vicious the commanding officer is. If they're monstrous or seem to really enjoy bloodshed, or if they have Risen, they're probably not with us. The coup forces seem to have contacts with all the most dangerous people. I have to wonder how long they planned for this."

"We can handle ourselves." Robin told him. "If you and your allies can focus on the forces in the open and in the city, we can make a push on the palace, cut off the coup leadership from their troops, and finally gain a foothold. We might also be able to find out what happened to Gangrel."

"Alright. We'll cover your flanks. They won't gain another inch." With this reassurance, the officer marched off to relay his new orders. Robin was about to follow suit when Chrom caught his attention.

"Emmeryn... Why did it take me so long to understand?" The Prince asked Robin. "She believed all people desire peace. She knew, deep down, the Plegians wanted it, too. It just took her to bring it to the surface…I hope she can see this, wherever she is...Today, we end this conflict and bring back peace to the land." Robin nodded, smiling. Chrom had his fire back.

A ragged cheer rose up from some of the Shepherds and their newfound allies. Robin and Chrom both looked to the source: the Feroxi Army, marching in formation and dressed in full battle gear, had entered the field. The Khans had set off before the Shepherds that day, but rather than take the direct route through the canyon, had been forced to march around, slowing their progress. But now they had arrived, their army with them. Flavia had wanted to be there for the proposed peace talks, her forces a show of strength. But she would not have expected the civil war that now greeted her.

Chrom and Robin both quickly made it to the Feroxi ranks and found Khan Flavia. But while Robin discussed the current situation with the Khan and figured out how best her forces could be applied, Chrom introduced the newest Shepherd to the others. Olivia seemed like she would be quite helpful to have around, Robin figured. With the way things were shaping up, they would all need something to revitalize them by the day's end.

* * *

"Need I say that this is clearly not what I was expecting?" Martin asked.

"You just did, so no point in saying it again." Shione replied.

"How could anyone have seen this coming?" Lyta said, a tinge of anger in her voice. "No one else from the future has ever mucked around as thoroughly in events as we have."

"I'm not so sure about that, though. If you look at-"

"We'll have time for idle chatter later, Martin." Cainne said, approaching them. "The Shepherds are moving out, and so are we."

"Oh, sure, blame me for the chatter." Martin replied, rolling his eyes. "I mean, yes, you're right to do so, but still…what else are we supposed to do while you find yourself yet another lance? How many of those things are you going to wind up breaking?"

"Not all of us have mercenary training, Martin. Things break."

"Only for you, apparently."

"That's beside the point. Right now, we have a job to do." Cainne stated flatly. "Robin chose a team to go with himself and Chrom for the attack on the palace. Everyone else is supposed to pitch in where they can on the battlefield. We're in that second category."

"Oh, boy, cleanup work." Shione groaned.

"Not quite." Cainne replied. "You said it yourself: Aiden was here. If he still is, I want to find him."

"He could be anywhere in this chaos. Who's to say he even stuck around?"

"I'm relying on this chaos preventing him from leaving. Maybe he even had a hand in it, who knows?" Cainne told them. "But if I were him, I'd be in the city. A crowd to hide in, a sanctuary from most of the fighting…"

"You know there's fighting in the city too, right?" Martin asked. "Truly, this situation is all kinds of messed up. If I were Aiden, I'd be staying away from any cities. Less risk of someone recognizing him that way. He'd blend right in posing as a soldier right now."

"I suppose. But if he's out there in the field, I imagine we'd find out. Swordmasters aren't exactly common in this part of the world." Cainne replied. "So I say we check out the city. If he's out there somewhere, we need to find him."

"By your command," Shoine spoke up. "…oh mighty demon bunny."

* * *

Gaius had a problem. Not a problem in the sense of some immediate issue or danger, like the hostile fighter currently trying to separate his head from his body: they'd be easily dealt with. No, Gaius meant that he recognized a problem with himself, a fatal flaw, as it were. It hurt him even more than that axe would to admit it, but Gaius had to acknowledge that he might have an addiction to sugar.

After all, here he was risking life and limb to assault a palace, fighting undead or just plain fanatical foes because someone had told him to do so. Direct confrontation wasn't his style, and neither was following orders, really. So why was he here? Because someone had dropped a bag of candy a few weeks ago. The axe embedding itself into the wall next to his head emphasized his point. They hadn't even been all that good! …Not that this had stopped him from eating them.

He kicked the fighter off of him, braced against the wall as he was, and swung his sword to try and create some distance between them. Sure, the pay he got was pretty nice, and he wasn't exactly uninterested in bringing about peace. After all, it became harder to steal things when people were constantly checking over their shoulders, anxious about some enemy or another. Plus, if they pulled this off, maybe he'd get to crack open the Plegian coffers.

The fighter caught his blade on the axe, and pulled, yanking it out of his hand. Maybe the problem wasn't even the sugar, really. No, of course it wasn't. Well, the lollipops on his bandolier sometimes did get uncomfortably sticky, but what was he going to do, put knives in there? Those things were sharp!

But really, the problem was that his talents weren't being effectively utilized. Next time he saw Robin, he'd be sure to tell him to pair Gaius with someone who could keep up with him. The thief hadn't seen Kellam for a while, and not in the usual way, either. The knight couldn't keep pace, and so now he found himself disarmed and staring down a crazed fighter, with backup seemingly nowhere to be found. If he could roll just right and grab his sword…

The fighter's eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell like a sack of baking sugar. Gaius went to thank his rescuer, but for a moment, the words didn't come to him.

Standing over the unconscious fighter was a woman who could not be real. There was just no way that anyone could have hair that particular shade of pink. It honestly reminded him of a particularly ornate and decorative frosted pastry he'd tried once. It had been that exact color, and whoever had decorated it had coated it with some sort of edible glitter. The sparkling garment the newcomer wore didn't hurt the comparison, either.

"Did…did I do that? I'm Olivia. Basilio sent me to help you."

Gaius just grinned. "Sweet."

* * *

The assault was going well, at least as far as Sumia figured. Robin had divided the team into two groups. She was part of the first group, led by Robin. They had been tasked with keeping the forces on the outside of the palace busy. There was a great deal of work to be done, and some of the enemy's strongest soldiers had been sent to defend the palace.

What they didn't know was that the second group, led by Prince Chrom himself, had already managed to infiltrate the castle at the beginning of the assault, and were now working up through the interior of the fortress-like structure to deal with the coup leadership. Robin's team was assaulting the exterior to keep the enemy distracted, in the hopes that they wouldn't turn their gaze inwards.

So far, it seemed to be working, at least as far as Sumia could tell. With her bird's eye view, she was able to see the heavy concentrations of Grimleal troops gathered across the palace battlements, clearly in reaction to Robin's assault. Sumia did her best to stay out of range of any bows or magic.

Cordelia was a part of Robin's team, as well, the rationale being that the tighter confines of the palace would not aid Shepherds with mounts. Sumia's fellow pegasus knight was dealing with what few hostile fliers the enemy had been able to muster. It seems the continued Ylissean dominance of the sky, along with an abnormally high defection rate among the wyvern riders, had crippled Plegian air forces. Robin was planning on taking full advantage of this, though ground-based anti-air was still an issue.

Sumia felt a twinge of regret when she thought of her friend. If what Shione had said was true, the man Cordelia had longed for all this time was Prince Chrom. It was true that Sumia herself had an… interest in the prince, but for as long as she had known Cordelia, the woman had been after this mystery man. And now…well, now wasn't the time to be thinking about this. There were dozens of fanatical Plegians threatening the lives of everyone. She had to focus.

Robin had told her to harass the enemy, taking advantage of any weakness while using her mount's speed and agility to avoid large groups of hostile forces. But there were so many soldiers swarming over the Palace battlements…she hoped Chrom was faring better inside.

* * *

Chrom was beginning to worry. This had been the fourth patrol they had been forced to deal with. If they faced many more delays, someone was going to notice, and the alarm would be raised. Robin was doing a fantastic job of keeping the enemy distracted, but if they all went in at once, Chrom and his team wouldn't stand a chance.

"Should be clear up ahead, Blue." Gaius told him. Chrom was glad to have the thief around, his experience was proving invaluable. Olivia had proven her worth as well, and though the woman was timid in combat, she had already become vital to the success of the team. Kellam was doing his best to protect everyone with less armor, while Frederick, who had insisted on following Chrom, marched on foot alongside his prince. Rounding out the group was Miriel, providing magical support.

Chrom didn't know the exact layout of the Plegian castle, but he knew that the enemy was most likely holding position in the most fortified part of it: the throne room. That was at the rear of the castle, and at least a level above where they currently were, based on the information provided by the friendly Plegian officers they had encountered on the way here. The stairwell in the room they had just cleared should have led to the correct floor.

This sublevel of the castle was littered with hidden passageways, stairwells, and servant's corridors. But at the moment, Chrom and his Shepherds appeared to be the only ones left. If his information was correct, the floor above them would hold both the throne room and the main entrance. They hadn't been able to enter the castle that way for obvious reasons: the coup forces wouldn't have exactly allowed them to waltz right in. But true to his nature, the Mad King had created many hidden entrances both into and out of the castle. Fortunately, many high-ranking individuals were loyal either to the king or to the concept of peace, and had been able to show Chrom more than one of these hidden passages.

With the area clear, the Prince ascended the stairs, slowly. He raised his head just above the floor of the next level, peering around to see if it was clear. This was definitely the right area. A gilded ceiling soared overhead, while deep purple carpeting covered the floor. Ornate statues and architectural columns lined the pathway. At the far end of the room they were in, a pair of massive doors stood tightly shut, barring the way to what Chrom could only assume was the throne room. And watching over the gateway was a group of Grimleal.

These appeared to be Grimleal in the truest sense of the word. Dressed in dark robes marked by arcane designs, adorned with inscrutable headdresses, and wielding tomes bound in dark material, these were clearly mages of some skill or high position. There were two of them, supported by a trio of royal guards. And they hadn't noticed Chrom.

He quickly ducked his head back down, and gestured to Miriel. She followed u the staircase next to him, and nodded when he pointed out the enemy. She understood. The others quickly followed suit, forming a line behind the mage.

Miriel struck first, casting a fireball at one of the unprepared mages. Then the others charged out of the stairwell, catching the rest unprepared. The fight lasted only a few seconds.

"Alright, everyone gather around!" Chrom called out. "We're going in." He gestured to the door to the throne room. He was stopped, though, by a strange sound. Someone was…clapping? The Prince faced the source of the sound, and was greeted by a terrible sight. There stood the man they had been trying to find, the very same king who had asked for peace and who now stood in front of a troop of very armed, and very angry, soldiers. Gangrel himself just clapped, a sadistic grin on his face.

"Good day, princeling!" The man cackled. "How fare your people without their precious Exalt?"

"Gangrel…" Chrom spoke out, shocked. "Was this, all of this, some sort of twisted game? Did you ever truly want peace?"

"If I had asked a day ago, you would have cut me down where I stood! You don't know the first thing about peace. No soldier does." Chrom reeled. How had all of this come about? Had everything up to now been part of some larger plot?

"I know more than you ever will." The Prince responded in anger.

"You don't see it? You're just like me. Your answer to all of life's problems is bloodshed." The Mad King sneered at him.

"Maybe you're right," Chrom told him. "I will never be my sister. I cannot forgive men like you- men who sow nothing but evil. All I have left are her words, and her memory. Were I alone, I might be driven to madness, or worse." The prince glanced to the men and women who stood beside him, weapons drawn. Not a single one showed fear. "But I'm not alone. My friends and brothers-in-arms stand behind me."

"Humans are little better than beasts. We fight, kill, and die all alone, princeling. Beasts do not follow beasts. They use each other only when it serves their own purposes."

"Is that why your army has splintered? You are a poison. A festering wound. And I will do what my sister would not."

"You will fall, and the whelps who cling to you will fall alongside you." The Mad King leveled his sword, a jagged thing reminiscent of a lightning bolt, pointing it directly at Chrom's heart. "Come! I have sharpened my blade just for you!"

* * *

The ground shook with the force of the spell as a column of fire erupted in the middle of the road. Martin dove behind the nearest building, watching as the spell dissipated. He crouched behind the wall and looked across the street. There, in a similar position to his own, Cainne was holding position behind what Martin imagined had once been a tavern of sorts. The place was now dangerously close to collapse, thanks to the holes that had been blown in in by the spellcaster just down the street.

Whoever they were, they were strong. The magic being thrown in Martin and Cainne's direction was high power stuff, the kind that took quite a bit of practice to learn. Martin had been able to use a tome like arcthunder every now and then before tiring. This mage was casting thoron spells like it was the only thing they knew how to do. That wasn't true, though. The rexcalibur and bloganone spells that occasionally were sent out proved that.

It was only one spellcaster, too. If Lyta or Shione were here, they'd have been able to fight back, at least. But those two were off in other parts of the city. Martin scanned the horizon, hoping to catch some glimpse of the pegasus knight. Not that it could be called a horizon, really.

Almost the entirety of the city proper of the Plegian capital was encased within the giant dragon skull that loomed out of the desert. The main entrance was through the dragon's gaping mouth, currently hotly contested by the Plegian forces that had taken it with the Shepherds' help, and the coup forces who desperately wanted the chokepoint back. Light filtered down through the enormous sockets and holes above them, but it was not enough to entirely dispel the perpetual twilight that covered the city. Martin supposed the skull helped dispel the desert heat, but he thought it was terribly gloomy. It didn't help that the cavern had been filled with smoke from a dozen fires.

The Plegians had made efficient use of the limited space inside, building up instead of out. Like many things in Plegia, the city was organized hierarchically, with the most important people living near the top. Martin knew this because it was there, at the summit of the city's acropolis, that the coup forces had dug in. This road wound around one side of the artificial hill-city to the top, matched by another running along the opposite side, which Lyta and Shione were helping to clear. The fighting had been intense until now, but there hadn't been anything like this. It seemed that the enemy were finally bringing out their best.

The bolt of lightning that sliced clean through the wall next to him convinced Martin that he had to get moving. He leaned into the street and cast a fireball. It wasn't much, but it proved effective enough to buy him the few seconds he needed to run into the street. A look behind him ensured that Cainne had gotten the idea, as she was following suit.

The enemy mage hadn't been distracted by his spell for long. They were already preparing another spell, pages of their tome flying as they were manipulated by the mage. Martin kept running, hoping that the mage's aim would be thrown off. The bolt of energy that passed by his shoulder was close enough to singe the clothing he was wearing. But he couldn't stop. If he did, he was dead meat. He was ten steps, eight steps, 6 steps from the mage. The tome flew open. Martin wasn't close enough. He'd have to try and avoid the next spell and hope that it was even possible for them to miss at this range, or hope that he was tough enough to take the hit. He wasn't confident in the second option.

The dilemma was solved moments later when a lance soared overhead. The sorcerer stepped to the side and the lance cleanly missed, but they stopped casting. Martin silently thanked Cainne for the distraction, and then he was on the sorcerer. They were quick, incredibly so, sidestepping his first strike and then jumping _over _his second. Martin was momentarily confused by the action and their unusually slow descent until he noticed the glowing tome in their hand. They were somehow using wind magic to enhance their movements…what kind of mage was this?

Cainne was next into the fray, charging in with all the ferocity a transformed Taguel could muster. The mage was able to avoid the attack, but Cainne fought on relentlessly. Martin watched as she transformed, grabbed her fallen lance, and continued to press the attack all in the course of a few seconds. It seemed she had picked up a few tricks from her fight with Mustafa.

"Don't forget me!" Martin yelled. He charged the sorcerer, sword in hand. Even with their magical advantage, they were distracted. If he could just- there! He swung in. The mage noticed, but it was too lat-

Martin's blade rebounded off of a solid wall of air. Both he and Cainne jumped back, and suddenly there was space between the three of them. Martin watched in awe as the sorcerer lowered their hands and released the barrier they had crafted out of wind magic. They looked tired, but Martin wasn't sure whether to chalk it up to the spell or to the constant strain of the fight. To do something like that with an offensive spell…what was this mage capable of?

* * *

Metal clashed on metal as Gangrel's blade connected with Falchion. It took all of Chrom's attention to stay on equal footing with the man. As mad as he was, he was skilled with a blade. All around the two, the battle raged as Chrom's team fought Gangrel's men.

Gangrel leapt backwards and raised his blade in front of him. Acting on instinct, Chrom dodged. A bolt of energy struck the ground where he had stood. The Mad King had a magic blade. Chrom closed the gap between them, not willing to allow any more magical attacks. Falchion swung out, and Gangrel dodged. Chrom pressed the attack, and was rewarded when the blade nicked the Mad King's side. And yet, he hardly seemed phased as he retaliated. The sudden and severe attack almost broke through Chrom's defenses. Almost. But Falchion was supernaturally durable, and would not break. He could do no less.

Every other Shepherd in the room was facing their own struggles. Their foes were the elite of the guard, and gave no quarter. Chrom would not receive help. He would have to stand alone. He pushed back against Gangrel's assault, knocking away a blow and counterattacking. The Mad King was suddenly back on the defensive, but he reacted quickly and Chrom was unable to strike him. He swung, again and again, but it was rare that his blows ever connected. When they did, they were met by Gangrel's lightning blade. Gangrel once more leapt backwards, opening a gap. Chrom moved to avoid the blast yet again, anticipating what was coming. He was caught off-guard when Gangrel pulled a dark-covered spell tome from his tunic and dark magic materialized around Chrom.

The spell connected, and suddenly Chrom was falling to the ground. Falchion fell from his grasp onto the floor. He…he was hurt. Badly. His legs couldn't hold his weight. All he could do was watch as the Mad King circled his now-prone form as the battle raged all around them, a battle that was tipping in the favor of the Plegians.

"Oh, what a shame." Gangrel spoke mockingly. "Has the princeling fallen already? You put up a good fight, but I was expecting more, really."

"You…you won't get away with this, Gangrel. We will stop you!" Chrom reached for Falchion. The hilt was just out of reach…

"Oh, on the contrary, it appears that I am getting away with this. The whole world will know how King Gangrel called for peace, only to slaughter the good Prince Chrom and his forces when they came. Chaos will reign in this kingdom, and in Ylisse. And the only one who could have ever known that the foolish king actually meant what he said is now lying on the floor before me. Grima will be pleased with what we have done here."

What? Had he heard correctly? Gangrel…had been earnest with his offer? Then what…or who…had caused this? Chrom's fingers brushed against the hilt of Falchion. It was so close…he needed to tell the others…

A thunderous crash filled the air as light suddenly illuminated the whole of the once dark interior of the castle. The figure standing above Chrom looked up in shock. The lightning-shaped blade was raised, but it wasn't enough to stop the point of a spear held by a charging pegasus knight. The blade went flying, Chrom's fingers finally grasped Falchion. Using all of his strength, the Ylissean prince lunged to his feet, thrusting with Falchion. The divine weapon ran through the Mad King. Chrom watched as the life drained out of his eyes, and he collapsed. Chrom was barely able to stand himself.

"Prince Chrom!" someone called out. He looked up. His savior was looking at him, her expression a mix of compassion and worry.

"Sumia…" he spoke slowly. His strength was returning to him, slowly. "Don't worry about me. I'm…okay."

"Take it easy, captain." She said, leaping off her pegasus and throwing his arm around her shoulder. "We've won. The castle is clear. You did it."

"But King Gangrel. Is he…" Chrom looked to the body of his foe, and recoiled. The man who was now dead at his feet was not King Gangrel. He had the man's clothing and crown, but his face was not one Chrom had ever seen. And yet, just moments before, he had stared this man in the eyes, and seen the Mad King's face. How…

"We still think he's in the throne room, remember?" Sumia told him. Chrom looked around. The ornate glass window above the doorway on the far side of the room had been shattered. Presumably, this was where Sumia had arrived from. As he watched, Robin walked through the doorway, loyalist Plegians and Shepherds alike streaming through behind him. It seems they really had won the day.

"Prince Chrom, are you alright?" Robin asked as soon as he noticed the pair.

"I'll live. Is everyone else alright?" Robin nodded.

"Cainne and her group disappeared a while back. Said something about helping to clear the city. But everyone else made it." The tactician looked over to the closed doors to the throne room. "Shall we see what lies behind them?" Chrom slowly nodded.

Robin signaled to the doors, and a team of soldiers slowly pushed the massive doors open. Robin approached, hand on his sword. Chrom watched as his eyes widened in surprise.

"But…how?" Robin asked out loud. Chrom, helped by Sumia, approached the doorway. When he looked inside, he echoed the same question. The throne room stood silent, untouched by the fighting outside. The throne sat unoccupied. The room was empty.

* * *

This mage was really starting to piss Martin off. He hadn't been able to inflict any lasting damage yet, and all they needed was one lucky shot with a magic spell to ruin his day. At this rate, the city would fall to either faction before the fight ended.

His sword was propelled back off by a wind barrier, once again erected just in time. He growled in frustration. As soon as the barrier dropped, a bolt of energy shot out. He evaded. They were getting tricky. He jumped backwards. If a sword wasn't working…he pulled out his own basic fire tome and started launching fireball after fireball. The mage didn't erect a barrier, though they were still able to avoid the spells. Maybe it didn't work on energy, or on magic spells. Martin didn't know, and he didn't really care. He'd found something that could work.

He launched another fireball. It was swell aimed. He watched as it impacted against the mage's robes. What he hadn't expected was the spell the mage had prepared, and he suddenly found himself propelled backwards by a blast of wind. It hurt when he landed, feet away. A quick once-over told him that he'd live. But damn, it hurt.

The sorcerer was even less affected than he was. That fireball barely seemed to annoy them, though there was a nice new burn on their cloak. But rather than take advantage of his compromised position, they stayed in the same position they had been in when he had cast his spell, transfixed by something. Cainne lunged with her spear, hoping to seize the initiative, but the mage sidestepped. So the mage wasn't dazed, just…not attacking?

"You are lucky." She spoke. It was a she, he could tell that now. She didn't sound much older than them, either. But he couldn't tell anything about what was behind that headpiece. "It is not your destiny to die today. But your presence will not be allowed by Grima or my masters forever, meddlers."

"Yeah, well," Martin started, but was interrupted by a cough. "Tell Grima that we'll stop meddling when he does."

The sorcerer did not respond. And suddenly, she was gone. Some sort of teleport spell, if Martin had to guess.

"So," Cainne turned to him, "is that it?"

* * *

The battle had been won, albeit at heavy cost. With no leadership to turn to, the coup forces had dissipated, quickly. However, they weren't the only ones left without a command structure. No one in Plegia had any idea who to turn to, with the King missing along with his advisors and the death of so many officials. The tangled web controlling who was now in charge would have to be sorted through in time. As it was, all Martin and Shione could do was watch as Chrom, Robin, Lissa, and Flavia discussed what came next. Peace talks would happen, interestingly enough, and terms would be hashed out with whoever was left to pick up the pieces of the Plegian Military. The Feroxi would bury their dead, and rebuild with finances from the Plegian nation. The Shepherds had somehow made it out alive, albeit with a great number of scars and injuries that weren't there before.

The weather in the fort here was hot and dry. Normally, it would have been uncomfortable. But, for some reason, the sun streaming in from above seemed pleasant. The war was over. They'd survived.

"I guess we made history today, huh?" Martin asked.

"Yeah," Shione responded. "I somehow didn't see this coming when we set off a few months ago. Here's hoping we find Aiden sooner, rather than later. I don't want to be around for the next war."

"Agreed." Martin replied. "But I can't help but wonder…what if something we've done has already set things in motion? We can't just abandon everyone if something caused by us winds up coming back to haunt the Shepherds and Ylisse."

"I guess. We'll just have to see what the future holds." Shione replied. He was silent for a few moments, and looked about ready to speak when someone entered the room. "Is that Sumia?"

Sure enough, it was. The pegasus knight greeted Chrom, and then answered his response by enveloping him in a hug. Martin wondered if they were about to see another piece of history unfold. He didn't want to pry, but he couldn't help but overhear bits of their conversation.

"I…I was wondering if you'd do me a favor." That caught Martin's attention. He wasn't sure what Sumia wanted, but it didn't exactly sound like what he had been expecting to hear.

"For you? Anything."

"Great! Could you, well…when you have some free time, it would be nice if you could…" Sumia stopped speaking, and stared at the ground for a moment. "Maybe take Cordelia out for a cup of tea sometime? I think she'd really appreciate it."

"Uh, sure, I guess. It's funny, you're actually the second person I've had ask me this…" the rest of Chrom's reply was lost to Martin when he heard Shione whisper to himself.

"Oh, no."

"Shione," Martin asked, suspicion starting to tinge his voice. "What did you do?"

"I, uh, may have accidentally let slip to Sumia that Cordelia has…feelings for the Prince."

"I have the distinct impression that Sumia was originally going to say something else to the prince. Something about their relationship. Something that is now possibly in jeopardy. And you did this…why?"

"It was an accident, really! I have just as much a desire for this not to happen as you do!"

"For your sake, I hope that this doesn't progress any further than two friends having tea. Or we're going to have issues."

"Frankly," Cainne interjected as she walked over. It still caught Martin off-guard with how good her hearing was. "I'm surprised Sumia didn't already know before you said something. Cordelia isn't exactly subtle."

"Don't tell me you're letting him off the hook?" Martin asked her. She shook her head.

"I just think that, given the circumstances, it's a marvel one of us hasn't screwed up worse." She replied. "And since we still don't know where Aiden is, we might be here for long enough to deal with the repercussions."

"I'm with Martin on this one." Lyta said. How long had she been there? At least she was with him. "That was stupid, Shione."

"Sorry. I'll deal with it if it comes to that." Shione told her. "Honest."

"Frankly, I'm not sure that whatever you're planning is the better idea." Cainne shot back, half-jokingly. "Love finds a way."

"Oh, gods." Martin said. "I'm stuck here with a bunch of idiots."

"Says the pot to the kettle," Shione grumbled out. Martin just laughed. The near future was certainly going to be interesting. But for this one moment, all he had to worry about were his friends. They'd done well. And whatever happened in the days to come, he was confident that they'd be able to face it if they stuck together.

* * *

_And that is that. Like I said, chapter notes inbound, as soon as I finish them. Considering it's late here as I finish revisions, they may take longer than I'd thought. This chapter was a strange one to write, because I deviated severely from known events. It lends more originality to the story, but I'm worried that it means I'm likelier to screw up. Anyway, this does in fact mark the end of the events before the time-skip in game. Next, we'll start to cover what goes on during that two years…for example, I hear wedding bells. Anyway, I'm off to play Birthright and try to understand the significance of those strange hearts that show up when inviting someone to your quarters in Fates. Here's hoping that I can crank out the next chapter in a reasonable span of time, and thanks for sticking with me so far (or for joining in if you're new).See you real soon._


	11. Chapter 11: Tangled Webs

_I don't always like keeping people in the dark. Sometimes, there's a very satisfying feeling that comes from being able to say "this is how all of this happened. It fits together like this." And as you may have noticed, the last few chapters have been entirely devoid of the point of view of a character who has otherwise been a consistent staple of this tale. And so, as we transition into the uncharted waters of that two-year time jump, I aim to rectify this and shed some light on recent events. And lucky me, it's working out that I'll have this posted right before the finals crunch. _

_The contents of this chapter, however, are most entirely off-script, meaning they have very little to tie them directly to the real storyline as presented in the game. Obviously, they have importance for _this _story, but I'm just pointing out that you won't really be able to tie this to an in-game chapter. In addition, since I had a lot of ground to cover, events happen very quickly and time-skips are frequent. I try my best to make these obvious, but it's come to my attention that sometimes the edits I make on the website (like adding in the bars between sections, one of which should be between the text in italics and the body of the chapter) don't always take. If that's the case, sorry, I'll be fixing it as soon as I notice. Author's notes will be up soon._

* * *

Aiden stood rigidly, unable to move. A dozen pairs of eyes stared at him from every direction, their gazes cold and unyielding. He couldn't even turn to look at any of them. Instead, his gaze was fixed directly forwards, locked onto his captors. Fanatics, zealots, followers of the Fell Dragon. They stood silently, staring at him. Their dark robes and animalistic headpieces obscured any expression they may have had. Grimleal of all rank filled the dimly lit chamber, but those he was forced to look at were of very high rank, the core of the faith. And at the center of it all, observing everything from a raised dais adorned with the eyes of Grima, stood the one who was in charge of this operation.

In a way, she was beautiful, or at least attractive. The pale hair, the ashen skin, the elaborately crafted and risqué robes all made for a striking figure. But it was marred by Aiden's knowledge of who she was and what she stood for. She was perhaps one of the most highly valued Grimleal agents that Aiden had ever heard of, reporting directly to the head of the faith himself. She was Aversa, and her attention was fully on him.

"My, my," she spoke. "Haven't you come a long way?"

* * *

Had this been any normal day, Aiden would have been awed by the unique nature of the Plegian's capital city. Almost the entirety of the main city had been constructed within the titanic skull that defined the region. Not even the people who lived here were certain if it was artificial or truly the skull of Grima, as legend suggested. And yet, they had somehow leveraged the thing to their advantage, and now went about their daily life as if their home was entirely average.

The architects of this city had wisely decided to take advantage of the protection from the elements the skull provided, and as the population grew, new construction was stacked on top of old until certain towers reached almost the top of the cavern. Some brave souls had even built out from the sides of the skull, and now clusters of buildings could be found projecting into the open air of the cavern, accessible by a network of bridges and ladders.

The city was in a state of perpetual twilight, caused by the fact that most of the sunlight available was cast through the six enormous orbitals and the gaping maw of the skull. Even now, pillars of sunlight streaking in through these entrances were visible simply by looking up. However, those who owned the property that these natural skylights shone down on were wealthy and upper class, not to mention unwilling to give up their positions. Most of the city survived in dim half-light, and the slums of the city were even worse, buried under newer construction as they were.

If this had been a normal day, all this would have fascinated Aiden. But this was a day of celebration for the Plegian people. This was the day the Exalt of the nation they were at war with was set to die.

Calling it a celebration wasn't exactly correct, Aiden thought to himself. The atmosphere was hardly jovial. Most people didn't care enough to celebrate. They'd seen too many executions in their lives. Some were even mournful at the thought of such wasteful killing, though they were careful not to show it in the presence of any Plegian officials.

Aiden himself wasn't so happy about the day's proceedings, either. There was, of course, the sadness at the thought of such a glorified execution of someone who really didn't deserve their fate, but there was also the knowledge that they wouldn't be the only ones to face death today. The Shepherds were coming, and here he was, stuck in the middle of things, and still with no progress in recovering his stolen property.

Campari hadn't been nearly as helpful as Aiden had hoped in that regard. The man was in high standings with the King, but he had no authority with the Grimleal, and therefore no knowledge of or sway over their actions, assuming Aiden could have even convinced or tricked the man into telling. Furthermore, the Plegian general had been so busy preparing for today that Aiden had barely seen him. Instead, Aiden had spent most of his time and some on his gold on a prolonged stay in a small inn that bordered one of the only paths to the city's summit, using it as a starting point from which to explore.

But even now, he didn't have much besides guesswork and hunches to go on. His stolen property was probably in the palace, but so far that was all he had to go on. And breaking in there didn't seem like the best idea at the moment. But perhaps later, once the fighting started and everyone was drawn away, he'd have a chance.

For now, he just needed to resupply. For once, he wasn't concerned about his purse: he'd found plenty of gold over the past few weeks. But the twin edges he wore on his hips were starting to wear down. They were good, sturdy iron blades, but Aiden wasn't so sure if they could take too much more combat. He wasn't likely to find anything resembling a Chon'sin style blade here, but even a standard Plegian iron or steel sword would be serviceable, and it would help him feel better. He wouldn't want to get caught in a fight with only broken weapons, after all.

Fortunately enough, one of the many ways this city differed from Ylisstol was that the sale of arms and armor was a common occurrence, as the residents were more familiar with war than the peaceful Ylisseans. During his exploration, he'd found an entire street lined with stalls and shops hawking military equipment of enough variety to meet any soldier or adventurer's needs. He hadn't had any gold on him then, deciding his coin purse would be safer in a locked room, but now he was ready to buy.

The market was surprisingly quite once Aiden arrived. It was understandable, given that the day had just barely begun. Beyond that, even, a good portion of those who were awake wouldn't be found here, not with the day's execution to prepare for. Depending on their loyalty, many people might already be out in the square, or already locking themselves in their homes. But the shopkeepers and smiths had to get their livelihoods somehow, so they were here. And they were all Aiden needed.

The swordsmaster briefly considered one of the more well-maintained storefronts as he passed. The place was advertising spell tomes and staves of all varieties, both for use in combat and out of it. It wasn't very often that one found a store like this in poor condition: the creation of the tomes and the focusing of magical energy into them was an expensive and time consuming process. The person creating the tome had to understand the ancient language that bound and shaped the spell, something which wasn't exactly common knowledge. And if something went wrong, well…the results weren't always pretty, especially with combat spells.

Aiden had always been fascinated by the magical arts, especially in regards to their more whimsical applications. That being said, he had essentially no magical talent of his own. He knew of some distant relatives with some training in the field, but he wasn't one of them. Training to wield one or two swords had taken up most of his life anyway. Nevertheless, he had a tentative grasp of the ancient language tomes were written in. It had been insurance, in case he had needed to use the portal tome himself. Of course, none of that mattered with the book stolen from him.

But that's what he was here to try and fix. Grab the tome, grab the package, and then…figure out what to do next. His old plan wasn't going to work, at least not in its current state. He'd have to figure out something new. Heck, maybe he could get the other four in on it. He'd have preferred not to; they probably hated him at the moment. But if he couldn't keep them away, it could wind up being his only choice. And going back wasn't an option.

Aiden shook himself. He'd gotten lost in thought, staring at the tome store that entire time. This wasn't helping him find a new sword. He turned around and nearly jumped into the air when he noticed his stalker.

"Jeez! Uh, can I help you?" Stalker wasn't the right word. Those, at least, were subtle. This woman had just been standing behind him, staring at the back of his head for…how long?

"Pardon me," she cleared her throat. The expression of indifference she held didn't shift. "You seemed familiar." Aiden stepped back, both putting some distance between them and getting a better look at the stranger. He could honestly say he had never seen her before.

"I…don't think so?" And yet, he wasn't so sure. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. She appeared to have recently stepped out of the tome shop, a spellbook cradled in her hand. Was she a mage? Aiden couldn't tell from her outfit, she was dressed like any other civilian here. Certainly no one he'd met before. So why…?

"You were at the bandit fortress, yes?" she asked him. How had she known that? And then it all clicked.

"Wait a minute…you were that spellcaster, right? The one who helped me out after I got stuck by that knife." The strange woman smiled slightly. "Thanks for helping me out, I guess. And for vouching for me. I didn't recognize you without the helmet." He absentmindedly scratched the back of his head through his hood. He wasn't quite sure where this little chat was going.

"I do not need to wear my robes at all times, especially not for an errand as simple as this." She responded, her expression once again becoming neutral. "And perhaps I should thank you. You were a useful distraction."

"Uh, no problem. Happy to help." Aiden said. "I have a knack for being at the right place at the wrong time." Once again, the mage smiled briefly. Aiden did not mention that, in fact, he had not been particularly happy to help out. There had been no particular desire to help kill a bunch of men whose crime was to rebel against a tyrannical king. He'd watched this woman kill easily and without mercy, and yet…she'd also saved his life. And now they were chatting away like old friends while Aiden tried not to think too hard about the crimes her cult had and would eventually commit.

"More than that, you have proven yourself a capable fighter on the field." She told him. "We could use people with your skills. Perhaps someday, you might consider joining us." Aiden blinked. Had she just offered him work with the Grimleal? Was she trying to convert him?

"I'll think about it, thanks." He wasn't going to, actually. There was no way he'd seriously consider working on the same side as the very thing he was trying so hard to fight. But he didn't want to say that out loud, not in the heart of Plegia. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Hold on," She grabbed his shoulder. "I never actually caught your name." Well, he guessed he owed her that much. Plus, he'd already told Campari, so what harm could it do?

"Aiden." She nodded, and smiled again, just for a brief moment.

"I'm Cera. Perhaps fate will be kind enough to allow us to meet again." She turned away, and the crowd engulfed her. That was strange enough; after all, the street had been nearly empty a few minutes ago.

Aiden stared for a few moments before remembering that he still had yet to buy himself a spare blade. As he set off, he reflected on his strange new acquaintance. If they ever did meet again, Aiden was pretty sure "fate" would have nothing to do with it.

* * *

He should have expected that the plan wouldn't work out. It was obvious in retrospect, really. If Martin were here, he'd be once again scolding Aiden for being impulsive and shortsighted. Well, he'd probably be more pissed off that Aiden had lost the incredibly valuable and unique tome that was their only way back to their own time, but that was another matter.

He had needed to get to the palace. So where had Gangrel gone as soon as the fighting started? The palace. Where had his soldiers taken up positions to defend their ruler? The palace. What hilltop fortress currently seemed all but impregnable? The godsdamned palace. But Aiden could have dealt with that. He had been prepared to wait things out, to use the battle's aftermath to get what he needed, when everyone was either tired or dead.

And then his conscience had gotten in the way. For one brief moment, when a dozen airborne Ylissseans had appeared over the horizon, Aiden had wondered if they could have in fact pulled the rescue off. Then an army of Risen had appeared from the sky and dashed that possibility.

It didn't matter, not to him. Sure, it was sad, but he hadn't wanted to get involved in the fight. Then his façade of indifference had come crashing down with one of the pegasus knights. They had fallen just nearby himself and the Plegians he had been shadowing and didn't even have the courtesy to die on impact.

That was how he had wound up striking down a few Plegian soldiers and saving the life of a Ylissean captain. Meeting Shione had been a surprise, though. He'd passed off the Ylissean to his old friend and said something about meeting on his terms next time before using the confusion to take cover nearby. Funnily enough, Shione had looked surprisingly well for someone in the middle of a warzone. The pegasus he rode had been new.

Then all hell had broken loose. Some sort of spell Aiden had never seen had broken the massive pillar on which the Exalt had been standing. The dust and flying debris kicked up by the collapsing rock had been the last thing Aiden saw when he took cover behind some rubble.

Which explained why he was now waking up some minutes later, face down and covered by a fine layer of sand. He stood up and shook his head, trying to clear it. Finding himself like this was getting old.

Aiden took a moment to brush off his cloak and gear. Everything still intact, nothing injured…he was okay. His brand new iron blade was still strapped to his back, ready for use and intact. He couldn't say the same for the Exalt, though. What had happened there…that didn't look like it was survivable. And Aiden knew that things weren't supposed to happen like that.

There it was again…his conscience telling him to do something, anything, to help. He didn't think there was anything _to_ do. Even if somehow she'd survived all of that, he was no healer. In fact, the only healer he'd met recently was a Grimleal cultist. Even worse, this place was probably crawling with Plegians who would be more than happy to kill him. He wasn't here to help people. He was here for his stolen property.

Even with all this in mind, he still started walking towards where the pillar had once stood. It was slow going with all the debris, both from the intense fighting and from the collapse. He picked his way slowly through it, all too aware that there were probably unfriendly survivors somewhere, perhaps with the same destination in mind.

But his mind kept going back to what had happened before the collapse, how an army of undead had just appeared from nowhere, summoned as if it were no difficult task. They had certainly seemed to be under the Mad King's control. What was it like, being able to summon entire armies, fearless and totally loyal, with just a spell? And, more importantly…

Could Aiden make use of such a power?

He needed allies. With what he hoped to do, there was no question about it. And there was a high chance that anyone who allied themselves with him could wind up dead. As competent as they were, Aiden didn't want to risk the lives of his friends, even as they were trying to hunt him down.

So what if he could summon a Risen army himself? Not from the dead, but from other worlds, like what had happened here? And if he could bind them to his will…he'd use the Grimleal's own tools against them, and without any risk to living people. It…might just work.

Then again, he wasn't a mage, let alone a user of dark magic. How could he even begin to learn something like that? Maybe…

Aiden's foot brushed against a rock, and he looked down. He was nearing the center of the collapse debris. And there…oh, gods. It was just a small mark, a slight brownish discoloration on the rock, but the swordmaster knew it for what it was. Blood. It could have been from anything. There had just been a battle here, after all. But he had the sickening feeling he knew exactly where it had come from.

The Exalt had been a noble woman. Aiden was sure that everyone who had witnessed it would remember her final moments for the rest of their lives. He hoped that no one would ever have to witness the aftermath. He closed his eyes. For a few brief moments, everything was still.

"Where is she?" A voice growled. The edge of a blade pressed against his throat as its wielder walked into his field of view.

"Well, shit…" Aiden cursed quietly to himself. His attacker had lost the mask, but she seemed just as stern as when he'd first seen her in the forest back when this whole journey had started. He couldn't exactly tell her that he knew her, though. Not with the edge of a legendary sword uncomfortably close to his windpipe.

"What did you do with her?" the woman known as Marth asked again, anger burning in her eyes. "Tell me!"

"Easy, lady! I don't know what you're talking about." He slowly swallowed, all too aware of the feeling of sharp metal. "Or for that matter, why I'm being assaulted."

"You…you're not one of them, are you?"

"Who, the Plegians? Do I look like one of them?"

"I can't tell. Drop the hood."

"Not a chance." Aiden couldn't tell her why, but there was absolutely no way he'd do that, threats be damned. "But I'm not one of them. Nor, I'd guess, are you." She eyed him warily and her blade did not waver an inch, but she apparently decided to let the matter of his identity go.

"Who I am is of no concern to you." Oh, the irony. "You aren't an Ylissean, either. So what are you, then? Some sort of scavenger? Where do your loyalties lie?"

"You guessed it," Aiden replied. "With myself. You're one of the soldiers that tried to stop the execution, then?" She didn't reply, though for a moment she broke eye contact. "I'm not gonna tell anyone, if that's what you're wondering. Like I said, I'm not with the Plegians. But I'm curious what you're doing here, when all your friends are already as far from here as possible."

"The Exalt. Have you seen…?" She let the sentence trail off. "I was hoping to give her a proper burial, at least. But I haven't been able to find a trace of her."

"And you figured I must have had something to do with it?" Aiden asked. "Sorry, but no. I'm just in the wrong place at the wrong time." As usual, he silently added.

His assailant lowered her weapon. "I'll find her." She said quietly. "Whatever remains…she deserves better than this."

"While I admire your respect for the dead, surely there has to be a better way of honoring your Exalt than staying behind in the middle of the hornet's nest. You need to get out of here. Go find your allies." It wasn't safe for Marth here. It was a miracle they hadn't been attacked already.

"No." she replied instantly, with an intensity that surprised him. "You don't understand what I've sacrificed. You can't. It's my fault that she was here in the first place." In truth, Aiden understood very well what she had gone through. He remembered the stories they'd all heard, and some that the rest hadn't. But he also knew that Marth wasn't supposed to be here. She had a greater role to play in this mess.

"Gods damn it, you're stubborn. Look, you _cannot _stick around here. Maybe the Exalt's speech got to me too, because I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want you dying for her sake," If her actions got her killed here, then that was it. They'd all be doomed. "And I find myself agreeing with the sentiment." In an instant, she had her blade leveled towards him.

"You're hiding something. I don't know who you are or what you're planning, but I'm not going to let you stand in my way." She declared. Aiden sighed. This really wasn't how he had pictured the day going. But he knew she wasn't going to back down.

"If that's how you want to play it." He drew his edges. "I warn you, I'm not going to go easy on you."

She moved first, acting almost as the words left his mouth. Her weapon came at him in a withering series of rapid blows, the silver and gold of the blade blurring together in a dazzling display. Aiden ducked under the first strike. She pivoted, bringing the blade back towards him from the side. He parried with the flat of an edge. A less-skilled swordsman would have stumbled, but she was better than that. Rather than fight the blade as it pushed against her strike, she followed the direction of the parry, bringing her weapon into position to strike again from the opposite side. He blocked again, then brought his blades together to catch her weapon as she tried to strike his exposed center.

"You're good!" Aiden declared as their blades were forced against each other, each fighter trying to gain leverage. "But not good enough!" She pushed away, opening the distance between them, and then leveled her blade at him. He brought his swords before him, one blade above and the other below. Both lunged. Their weapons sparked off each other as they passed, and Aiden felt something scrape against his arm. The swordmaster slid to a halt, turning immediately.

"You won't stop me!" his opponent called out mid-leap, blade arcing dangerously towards his head.

Aiden leapt into the air, catching her unawares. He batted her blade to the side with his own, following the direction of a strike with a mid-air twist that brought his shoulder right into the other fighter's stomach.

Both dropped to the ground. He landed on his feet. She didn't. Her weapon landed a few feet away, embedding itself into the ground. When he didn't move, she slowly started to get up.

"Alright, you had your fun." He told her. "Now, get out of here. Find your allies. Stay away."

"How did you-?"

"I had a good teacher." He replied before she could finish. "We've all got our secrets." She rose to her feet and grabbed her blade. Aiden turned to watch her go. Thankfully, she didn't try and contest him. Before she left, however, she fixed him with a determined stare.

"I won't forget this. The next time we meet will be different, do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Aiden replied. Once she had disappeared, he buried his head in his hands and let out a long sigh. He checked the arm he'd felt something graze. Sure enough, she'd managed to score a shallow cut down his forearm, cutting through both cloth and skin. It stung, but he wasn't in any danger. A sip of healing tonic would be enough. He groaned audibly at the whole ridiculous situation.

Once he'd fished around in his pack for a bottle and checked to make sure the wound had closed up, Aiden shook the arm around, just to make sure it was working properly. He drew a sword, only to have the weapon snap in half, the blade falling into the sand. Aiden tossed the hilt aside with an even louder groan.

* * *

Once he was sure that Marth really had left, Aiden started to dig. Something the woman had said had intrigued him. She hadn't been able to find a body. Granted, the rubble from the collapsed pillar made things more difficult…but what if there was more to it than that? What if, despite the odds, the Exalt had survived? He knew the fall should have been survivable, but that magical attack hadn't exactly improved the odds. And yet, it hadn't actually been aimed for her, either, instead hitting the center of the rock she'd been on and causing the collapse.

And if he did find the body? Aiden supposed he'd bring it to the Shepherds, anonymously of course. He didn't exactly have much to do beyond finding his stolen goods, and with any luck, the palace would soon find itself unguarded and leaderless. Why not take advantage of all this free time?

His hands brushed against something wooden. A small object, some sort of cane or stick. It was only when Aiden picked it up that he noticed the decorative metal and crystal crown on the piece. A healing staff, discarded and drained of energy, at least as far as Aiden could tell. And what was more, it wasn't covered in dust like everything else. Sure, there was some, but it wasn't the fine layer that had coated everyone and everything, himself included, when the pillar collapsed. No, it appeared that someone had dropped this here…or buried it.

It could have meant anything, but he had a hunch. He climbed the pile of rock, cresting the top quickly enough. From up there, he had a relatively decent view of his surroundings. Off in the distance, he could see Plegian teams sweeping through the battlefield, looking for survivors. They'd be at his location soon.

There! Tucked away in a crag, almost hidden from sight, a priest was crouched over something. Aiden could barely see them, hidden as they were, but their actions looked almost frantic. Why were they hiding so far away from the others? He hopped down the pile of rubble and approached the priest. They hadn't noticed him, engrossed as they were. The swordsman figured that if they were hostile, it wouldn't be too difficult to deal with them. He cleared his throat. The priest started.

"Ah! Who-who are you?" The poor man was scared to death. He wasn't very old by his looks. Aiden held up his hands in front of him.

"Easy there." Aiden told him. Then he slowly took out the discarded staff. "Just looking around. This yours?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm a healer. I just used that up, you know? Healed people. Like I'm doing now." The kid was sweating now, his eyes darting back and forth.

"Calm down, kid." Aiden said. "I'm not going to attack you for helping people. I was just curious, is all."

"Well, he won't. I just might, though. Choose your next words very carefully."

Aiden's remaining edge appeared instantly in his hand, already at a ready position. The newcomer stepped forward and fixed Aiden with a bored, almost disappointed glare.

"You know, you really shouldn't threaten royalty like that," the Mad King told him. "It's a good way to get on their bad side." He walked over to the young priest, who was visibly trembling. "As for you, who's that you're working on?" He sounded very nonchalant, but Aiden saw the color drain from the priest's face.

"It's-it's just a mage, wounded in the collapse, milord!" The young priest stammered out. "It would be remiss of me to refuse aid to one of Grima's servants!"

"Oh, give it a rest." Gangrel stated before tossing aside the priest. The young man fell face first into the dust. His patient was revealed. Gangrel shook his head. "Tsk. Tsk. Aiding the enemy is bad enough, but did you honestly think you could get away with stealing the star of today's festivities right out from under my nose?"

It was Emmeryn, there was no doubt about it. She was badly injured and unconscious, even with the priest's efforts, but her chest rose and fell steadily as she breathed. She was alive!

And Gangrel had just found her.

"You know, I'm actually glad I decided to go out and clear my head. Now I get to kill a traitor AND a witch, all by myself!" The Mad King grinned, and drew a lightning- bolt shaped sword. The priest desperately started to scramble away.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…" Aiden said, tapping the tip of his sword on a piece of rock. Gangrel stopped approaching the priest.

"Not content to wait your turn? Fine, I'll deal with you first." Gangrel turned to face the swordsman. "You're an interesting fellow, aren't you? A strange man with strange clothes, fighting only for himself…and doing it quite well. I saw your little duel with the Ylissean girl. Well done! But then you had to go and disappoint me by siding with this whelp and the Ylissean witch."

"If you want a fight, then let's just get to it already!" Aiden told him. "I'm not going to play your damn games!"

"Hahaha!" the Mad King laughed. "You've quite the temper. Believe me, I'd enjoy nothing more than a little bloodletting right now. But I know a useful tool when I see one. In fact, if you were to kill this fool right now," he gestured at the priest, who was still trying to get up, "I'll think about letting you live!"

"Do you honestly think I'd ever work for a tyrant like you?" Aiden asked incredulously. "A subhuman bastard with a vendetta against a dead king?"

"Careful, boy." Gangrel said, his grin fading. "You speak far beyond your station. What would a drifter like you possibly know of the affairs of kings and nations?"

"Oh, I know enough." Aiden wasn't sure why he kept speaking. Some bitter mixture of emotions that had been building in him, perhaps, that had been unleashed by the Exalt and Gangrel. Maybe he was just venting the frustrations of this entire fruitless journey. Or perhaps it was that, somehow, he thought he understood the mind of the madman before him. "You want to bring the whole continent under your rule. You want to stop the coming invasion from across the sea, and you think you're the only one with the strength to resist them. But more than that, I think you see this as an opportunity for vengeance. Against Ylisse. Against everyone who you think has wronged you. And so you bring about misery and strife to innocent people, all while fooling yourself into thinking you're bringing about justice."

"Oh my, aren't we clever?" The king asked, though the smile did not return to his face. "You think you understand me? What I've done and what I intend to do? I'll give you the bit about wanting to unify the continent, its true enough. But do you want to know a secret? I know EXACTLY what I've done, what I am. I am a beast, a dog straining against my chain. All men are. You say I want revenge? Do you not think The Ylissean princeling wants revenge against me? What about you? What would you want if I were to cut off a hand, or kill the Exalt you seem to care so much about? The only difference between myself and everyone else is that I can admit to myself what it is I want, and that I will do what I have to do to get it."

"And that justifies all of this? All the death, the rampant destruction?"

"Justification? The only justification I need is my own, everyone else be damned!" Gangrel sneered. "They're the ones who can't see what the future holds! For all your talk, you still don't understand. I'm the only one who has the strength to stand against Valm. My actions will save Plegia, Ylisse, this whole damned continent! And if the only way to secure my future, my kingdom's future, is through death and destruction, then so be it! I'd kill a thousand Exalts before I let us all be ground under the heel of Valm. And after what her people did to mine, I'd be glad to do it!" With that, the King of Plegia readied his sword.

It was then that Aiden started to understand. Gangrel truly thought he was doing the right thing. Even all of this, as cruel as it was, was something he thought was necessary. The man was sadistic and brutal, and yet, somehow, Aiden was beginning to question if he was actually evil. Even with everything he'd done, Gangrel thought, truly, that his way was the only way that would ensure Plegia and all her neighbors would survive invasion.

Unbidden, memories surfaced. A dying mercenary telling him that they weren't so different and that he wished he'd held on to his humanity. An old Grimleal telling him to seek aid in the desert. The grand parting words of a woman he knew would be silent all too soon. A duel he had never wanted, with a woman strong in her convictions and yet hiding great pain. And even further back, a hazy memory of a childhood meeting with a wanderer seeking purpose. Even what Aiden had thought of his own journey, and how he'd been so convinced he was doing the right thing and fulfilling a necessary evil, before he'd seen that the real world wasn't a place for heroic fantasies. Maybe…maybe the answer wasn't another fight, or more death. Aiden's sword remained lowered.

"It…it doesn't have to be like this." He began. For a moment, Gangrel was perplexed. "All the fighting, this whole war…you can end it here. Right there, you have a way out." He waved towards the still form of Emmeryn.

"Did you fall from a height, too? Or have you just gone insane?" Gangrel asked. "You don't seem to understand. I want this. The war, the chaos. It's all necessary."

"Can you truly not see what you've become? How far you've fallen? It's more than just being a mad king or a dog…your actions would mark you as a monster. But you don't have to be. When all is said and done, will you be content with the mountain of bodies that is your legacy?"

"You're a fool!" Gangrel sneered. "My legacy will be one I craft, when Valm comes to our shores and it is my kingdom that repels them! I will be a conqueror, a savior! That's what I see in the mirror, boy. I am a monster. But I need to be to stop all of this."

"Listen to me, please. If you continue this war, if you kill the Exalt here, the only thing you leave behind will be a blood stain." Aiden locked eyes with the king. "Ylisse is far stronger than you realize. Chrom will defeat you if you continue down this path. They have conviction, far more than you know. They fight for their homeland and the Exalt they believe is now dead. Or can you not see the fire in their eyes, the wavering will of your own troops? You want to unite the continent under you, but all you've succeeded in is uniting the continent against you. In your desperation, you've become the very thing you set out to stop. The very same bloodthirsty conqueror who threatens your shores, or who rode into your country years ago."

Gangrel stood still. Aiden continued.

"This foolish war isn't worth it. Everything you've built will crumble, I can guarantee that. And when Valm comes, all you will have accomplished will be to weaken the nations who would oppose them. So end it. Change the path you've been set on. Find a better way."

For a long while, Gangrel was silent. Then, slowly, the Mad King started to move. Step by step, he turned away from the swordsmaster, and approached Emmeryn. Aiden readied to intercede. The King of Plegia stood over her, just staring. And then he dropped to one knee.

"You…you're telling the truth." Aiden heard him say. "This isn't just you trying to manipulate me, it's what you honestly believe to be my future, isn't it?" The swordsman nodded. "If only…if only it were so simple. Just to revoke my ways and be free of my past. But that isn't how the world works. No matter what I do, no one would stand with Plegia. We are alone. Even if someone were foolish enough to actually trust me, I'm hardly the only one who wanted war. Aversa…she and her cult…she's been using me, all along. And she has power and control, more than I realized. Maybe I was led down this path, but the truth is I followed all too willingly. Now I'm too far along it to turn back. Do you understand? Who would ever trust someone like me? Who would even tolerate the presence of such a mongrel? I doubt even the Exalt, champion of her godsdamned peace, could find it in her heart to forgive me now, not with what I've done. To her, her nation, to my own people."

His tone was so incredibly and unexpectedly despondent, that of a man who traveled to the end of his rope and found a noose waiting for him. Aiden braced himself for Gangrel to do something desperate, one last act of defiance. But he remained motionless, staring down at the face of the woman he hated.

And then there was movement. A pair of eyes opened. A pale, slender hand brushed softly against the Mad King's face, before falling back to the dust and lying still. Aiden watched, unable to look away. Emmeryn…she'd moved. Just briefly, but something had caused her to wake.

Gangrel's body started to shake, almost imperceptibly at first and then more violently. He barely made a sound, but to Aiden it appeared that he was…crying? But then, all at once, he stood. When he turned to Aiden his eyes burned, whether with rage or determination or something else Aiden couldn't tell. But he held his weapon in an iron grip.

"You." He turned to the priest. "Save her."

"Mi-milor-?"

"NOW!" Gangrel screamed, cutting him off. "I will not see her die here." The priest scrambled to her side and began to work. Aiden was still in shock when the King of Plegia turned to him. "As for you, we have a great deal to discuss."

* * *

"So, swordsman, what do you think the odds of any of this actually playing out the way we hope are?" Aiden shrugged. The Mad King was content to let him mull the question over as they both slowly crossed the central hall, towards the throne room.

"It all depends on what everyone else does now." He told Gangrel. "The men you sent, do you trust them?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a good judge of character. At least, not with the kind of characters we need right now." Gangrel replied. "The wyverns that I sent out yesterday with the ceasefire orders were all from a detachment trained by Captain Irving. He's stationed on the western border. You'd be hard pressed to find a better model soldier. Everything he does is by the books. Oh, he annoyed me! But his soldiers will follow their orders, assuming he's taught them well enough."

"What about that group you sent this morning? What're they doing, exactly?"

"I'm not sure where that lieutenant stands, who he's loyal to. So I took him and his men out of the equation. By the time they get back, the battle lines will have already been drawn. Maybe he'll even bring back the Ylissean Princeling. Or he'll attack them and get himself killed."

"Battle lines? Do you think it will really escalate that quickly?" Aiden asked.

"I'm certain of it. I've worked with the nobility we're about to face for years. They've always been the cowardly sort, all too eager to bend over and kiss my boot, but make no mistake: they'd be oh so happy to claim the throne for themselves. Some might side with us. Hell, they might even discover they have morals. But there are plenty who won't."

"Will they have enough support to wage a war, though?"

"In case you haven't noticed, my army isn't exactly at full strength, thanks to the Ylisseans. If enough of the schemers get it in their head that I'm weak, war will be inevitable. And with the support of the church, anything is possible."

"They won't exactly be easy to deal with. You know that, right?" Aiden asked. Gangrel turned to him.

"Everyone in Plegia knows who they are. They're the boogeymen, or the ones you turn to when you've nowhere else to go. At the very least, we all pay them lip service, myself included. Hell, I'm partially to blame for their strength! Aversa's been my advisor for years now, and she's been playing me for a fool the entire time. But it's high time that she pays for her actions. They've been a blight on my kingdom for too long, and now we'll finally get rid of them."

"So that's what we're up against. But do we have any allies?"

"What do you think I spent last night doing? I've rallied everyone I could find that would listen. I'm sure half of them still think this is a trap." The king stopped for a moment, turning to the swordsman. "You were right. Most of the people I met with were prepared to lay down their arms as soon as it came to a fight. We wouldn't have stood a chance if the Ylisseans came back looking for blood."

"Unfortunately, I'm not going to be able to tell you what happens next. But if you're still wondering what our chances are? I'd say they're better than the alternative. All your nobles should be just beyond this door. Just one more question before we start this thing."

"You want to know about the Exalt, I assume?" Gangrel asked. Aiden nodded. "The only ones who know that she survived are standing here or on a boat headed towards the southern isles. She'll be away from the war there. The priest says he has family on one of the larger isles. Beyond that, I have no ties with the area. No one would suspect it. Now, are you through with all your questions?"

"Whenever you're ready."

Gangrel planted himself in the center of the doorway. Then, in one smooth motion, he opened the great doors and entered. His stride did not falter until he stood in the center of the chamber, the spitting image of a self-assured royal. Aiden entered behind him, but was not able to conceal his own surprise.

Only one other person stood in the chamber. She reclined on the throne, one hand slowly tapping on the armrest while the other cupped her chin.

"Aversa." Gangrel greeted her. "What are you doing on my throne?"

"If it isn't the Mad King…" Aversa looked at him. "Or should I just call you mad, since you clearly have no intention of holding onto your kingdom?"

"Ha! I admit, this has all been rather sudden, but I've always been a bit impulsive, haven't I?" Gangrel asked her, grinning widely. "But let's see if you can be honest for once in your life: is it the kingdom you care for, or are you just upset that I'm no longer your puppet?"

"My puppet? You think too little of yourself, Gangrel." Aversa smirked. "I pulled no strings while you slaughtered innocents and drove Plegia to ruin. All of this was your doing. I merely provided the means. And I'm sure your accomplice isn't happy with the idea of serving a madman."

"Oh, I know exactly what I've done, witch. I claim full responsibility for my past, which is why I'll be all too glad to set things right." With a flourish, Gangrel drew his sword. "As for you, swordsmaster, I expect you know what to do." Aiden nodded, and drew his own blade.

"I do." He said. And then, with Gangrel's full attention fixed on Aversa, Aiden disarmed the Mad King and put the edge of his blade against the man's throat.

"Oh, my!" Aversa grinned. "It seems you have been betrayed, my dear…how does it feel, I wonder?"

"What?" Gangrel called out as he struggled. "What are you doing?"

"Did you really think I could ever forgive what you've done?" Aiden told him. "That everything would be all right with a few words? You were just a means to an end. And the Grimleal make a very compelling offer."

That offer had been membership. After what had happened yesterday, Aiden had put some thought into his predicament. Summoning a Risen army would be an incredibly useful tool, but no one outside the Grimleal would know how it was done. The solution, as much as it pained him, was to become one of them. So he'd sought out the woman, Cera, and made his offer. The King of Plegia, giftwrapped and imprisoned before he could undo their hard work. Aiden knew that what he said just now was hypocritical. He couldn't exactly pretend that the Grimleal were faultless. But they, too, were a means to an end, just like the madman who even now struggled against his captor.

As Gangrel writhed, screamed, and cursed, other Grimleal appeared from their hiding places. Aversa waved her hand, and two approached Aiden. One of them read from a tome, and the Mad King fell limp in Aiden's arms. The other took his body from the swordsmaster and slung him over their shoulder.

"That was fine work." Aversa told him, standing up. "I think we may stand to benefit from a continued…relationship." A few of the others in the room nodded approvingly in his direction. It looked like he was in.

"What now?" He asked.

"We leave this kingdom for the vultures." Aversa said. "The former Mad King has done nothing but ensure its collapse. The situation is not what we had expected, but the tides of fate still flow in the direction our master desires. And so, our work here is done. And I think that I have some new allies to bring with me." Aiden nodded.

"Lewis," she continued, looking to one of the cloaked Grimleal. "Report to the illusionist. I have little doubt that the Ylisseans are even now drawing near. Take the madman's face and convince them that they were betrayed. Kill a few, if possible. Report to us in Valm when you have sown chaos among our foes."

"Yes, milady." The Grimleal replied before walking off.

"Valm?" Aiden asked. "Across the ocean?"

"Indeed." Aversa smirked. "Our mission on this continent is complete, for now. A great many things need still be done there, however. And, Grima willing, it will be you that sees his grand designs to fruition."

* * *

Gods, the storm was not making Aiden feel any less queasy. The few times that he'd traveled by ship hadn't always resulted in illness, though he was less comfortable on deck than he was on land. But they'd been forced into the dark lower decks of the ferry for most of the day now, thanks to poor conditions above. The constant and occasionally violent movement of the ship had not been kind to the swordsmaster. Traveling across time hadn't been this bad, and that had left him unconscious.

He imagined it couldn't have been a particularly pleasant journey for the men even further below. One of them was confined to a dank cell in the brig, no doubt cursing Aiden's name at this very moment. For a moment, Gangrel's fate troubled him, but he brushed thoughts of the Mad King aside. He also refused to think of the Exalt, who no doubt was on a similar journey to his own, inside another vessel that could even be caught in this very storm. The odds of them ever meeting were slim, but Aiden was hopeful for her. She stood a chance of living a good life. He wasn't going to tell his new associates about her, and he doubted Gangrel would say anything. That man wouldn't want to give them the satisfaction.

As for Aiden himself, he sat hunkered in the corner of a dimly lit room in a storm-tossed ship and wondered what would become of him.

"Would you mind terribly if I sat with you?" Aiden looked up. Cera was looking at him, her head tilted slightly to the side. He shook his head. She sat down next to him slowly. Something about the way she moved was…odd. In the dim light, he had no idea what, though.

"Thank you. Moving through this ship while it tries its best to knock me over has proven to be quite tiring." For a few minutes, they sat in silence, each contemplating their own discomfort.

"Hey, Cera." Aiden spoke up. "Can I ask you a few things?"

"By all means."

"Once we make landfall…what happens next? Anything you're allowed to tell me would be nice, because I'm sorta walking into this blind."

"You will undergo initiation." She responded, her voice quiet and emotionless. "Consider yourself blessed. Most who seek to join the higher ranks of the Grimleal and become of the truly devoted would serve for years to prove their loyalty. But thanks to your repeated and crucial contributions, Lady Aversa trusts you enough to bring you to a somewhat more…elevated positon, one where your skills in combat would be more useful. I would take care not to let her down."

"Noted." Aiden replied. "You said something about an initiation?"

"It is not my place to speak of it. Do not fear, I am confident you will succeed. But I cannot tell you more."

"Er, okay." Aiden figured he wasn't going to get anything else about that out of her. "So what about afterwards? I assume I'm not signing on just to stand around and look scary, right?"

"Indeed. We work in cells, small groups spread throughout the land, each with its own tasks and the resources to accomplish them. Though all receive their orders from the same leadership, they operate entirely independent of one another on most occasions. You, like the other initiates, will most likely be assigned to one of these cells. There is a great deal of work yet to be done, and even I do not know most of what is required."

"Oh, fun. Here's hoping I don't get stuck in the middle of nowhere, then."

"I believe our leadership would be much more interested in seeing your skill put to good use, Aiden. Have faith in your destiny. No matter where you end up, prove your worth and Grima will reward you."

"If you say so…" Aiden trailed off. He, of course, knew that nothing in life was as predetermined as the Grimleal liked to believe. Cera, on the other hand, seemed to be quite firm in her faith. He wondered what it was like, believing that everything you did was part of some higher being's unchanging plan for you. She was certainly an interesting person.

"Does that mean I won't be seeing you again, then?" He asked. "What with these cells being isolated from each other, I don't imagine the odds of us working together could be all that high."

"You are probably correct, unfortunately. I enjoyed fighting by your side." Cera smiled at him. "I will be present for the initiation ceremony, though, and this ship has a ways to go before we reach port. Should you wish to talk before that day, I will be available."

"Thanks, Cera." Aiden wasn't sure himself why he cared. It seemed that Cera was the only person on this ship he could have a normal discussion with. He sure as hell wasn't going to be idly chatting with Aversa. Maybe if he hadn't been planning on betraying them all, he could have been friends with the sorceress.

"Anytime. And who knows?" She laughed. "I didn't expect to see you again after we met in the bandit fort, nor did I hope to see you so soon after meeting you in the city. Fate works in mysterious ways. I believe we will meet again." Then, she stood up, and walked away.

Aiden couldn't say why, but it seemed like a bit of the uncertainty that had been draped around him had disappeared. Perhaps it was this feeling, this presumed knowledge of what was ahead, was what attracted people to the Grimleal. Believing that one's path in life was predetermined eased some of the worry and fear about what the future held. It was easier to thing that everything had a purpose and an inevitable conclusion. Even though he knew the truth, Aiden could see the appeal.

But he couldn't explain the warm feeling in his chest as his new acquaintance- or maybe even friend? - walked away.

* * *

"So…you think you're ready for this?"

Aiden turned to the man talking to him. He wasn't particularly striking in any way. His face was average, covered by closely cropped hair. He wore basic, unadorned leather armor over plain clothing. A standard wooden bow rested against the wall next to him. In fact, the only thing about him of any note was the grin on his face as he waited for Aiden's response.

The underground camber they were in contained about a dozen others, all lining the wall and waiting for the same initiation Aiden was about to undergo. All of them, with the exception of the plain-looking man, were depressingly somber. All of them were waiting for something to happen.

"I have no idea." Aiden replied to the man, who let out a soft chuckle.

"First real answer I've heard all day. I like it." Aiden looked inquisitively at him. "My name's Borri, by the way. I asked some of the others in here…they're all so self-assured. I guess it comes with believing their fate has already been sealed. Me, I think you've got to work to bring about your destiny. You never get something for nothing. And to be honest, I'm terrified right now. " Aiden smiled at that.

"Aiden." He shook Borri's outstretched hand. "I think you misunderstood me, though. I literally have no idea what is going to happen in there."

"Jeez, really? I figured everyone knew. Most've at least heard the rumors."

"Apparently not everyone." Aiden replied.

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it. You ever notice how the higher-ups in the Grimleal fight?"

"Well…I guess they all seem to be magic users." Aiden guessed.

"Not just magic, dark magic. Everyone who's anyone here can use it, even up to Aversa and whoever she reports to. It doesn't matter if you're like me and prefer a bow, the powers that be have decided you have to be able to use it to get anywhere in our little organization. Something about it being a gift from Grima."

"Well, shit." Aiden responded. He was no mage. "So why are _we_ here, then?"

"Even the best mages can't just learn to use dark magic." Borri continued. "So everyone, from top spellcasters to schmucks like us, goes through this initiation. Our superiors give us a little present, a bit of their own dark energy, and there you go! Instant dark mage of…varying talent. Just make sure you stand still during the ceremony. Unexpected movement can cause bad things with all that dangerous magic floating around."

"Noted." Aiden replied. "But that doesn't sound too difficult. What's got you so scared, then?"

"It's what comes after all the ritual stuff, my friend." Borri told him. "Our benefactors in the ceremony are usually real high up on the totem pole. Their gift comes with a price: loyalty. Essentially, you get to meet your new commanding officers before they ship you off to work for them."

"So, what, are they going to parade us around and choose who they want to support?"

"Hardly. They've already chosen who they want working for them, we just don't have the pleasure of knowing until someone decides to tell us. Most of us have been working for someone in the Grimleal for years, so they know who we are and what we've done. I'm guessing you aren't one of us career Grimleal, though."

"You could say that." Aiden told him. "I wound up helping out a few very important people and decided I'd tag along for the ride."

"Well," Borri replied, "I'm just hoping I don't get stuck with a bunch of assholes. You're pretty much the only one in this lot that seems to be slightly more interesting than a corpse, so I figure my odds aren't all that great. Plus, I've heard the rumors about the leadership this time around. Not guys I want to work for."

"That bad?" Aiden asked.

"It's mostly just one person I'm worried about. A real nasty piece of work. I've heard he's been working as everyone's favorite killer for years. He was who the higher-ups turned to when they wanted someone, or a whole lot of someones, to disappear. I wonder why they took someone like him and made him a cell leader."

A section of the stone wall on the far side of the chamber slid noiselessly open. A black-robed sorcerer walked into the room, before silently motioning towards four of the individuals sitting in the room. Then, he walked away. The stone door remained open.

"Don't look now, but I think they want you." Borri said.

"They're taking us in groups?" Aiden asked as the other three that had been pointed at stood.

"I guess so. Just means that they're forming new cells instead of tacking us onto existing ones. The cell leaders like to initiate their people one at a time or something. Anyway, get going. And may Grima guide you."

Aiden followed the others out of the room, blinking at the otherworldly blue glow cast by the braziers in the corners of the chamber they stepped into. In the dim lighting, he lowered his hood and looked around.

A raised platform overlooked the rest of the room, illuminated by an unknown light from above. A series of six other, lower platforms radiated out on one side of the first. Around these and throughout the sizeable chamber, dozens of dark-robed individuals milled about. Those nearest to the stone doorway looked at him and the other three with him. He couldn't tell how they reacted, if at all, behind their headdresses and the shadows they cast.

The four initiates were wordlessly directed onto the four most central platforms. Soon, everyone in the room was looking at them. Aiden made sure to keep his expression neutral, though his skin was starting to crawl. The sound of boots on stone alerted him and the others to the person ascending to the upper dais. Naturally, they looked towards it. That was when the platforms beneath their feet started to glow, and Aiden found himself unable to move more than his eyelids.

Aversa stepped onto the dais, dressed in what could probably be considered formal attire for her. Once she had stopped moving, four Grimleal broke from the crowd and ascended onto the same level as the motionless initiates.

"My, my," she spoke. "Haven't you come a long way?" Aiden found himself briefly considering the chain of strange circumstances that had brought him here. Yes, he had.

"You stand here, not just before me, but under the gaze of Grima himself." Her tone was subtly different now, more formal than flirtatious. "In some way or another, you have all shown yourselves to be useful servants of the Fell Dragon. Now, you seek to become more. You hope to be agents of His will, His most treasured instruments. All that remains is to see if you are worthy of his gift. Stand ready, initiates."

Aiden remained still. It wasn't exactly as if he had a choice, anyway. In unison, the four Grimleal each began to cross towards one of the initiates. Aiden examined the one coming towards him. They, like the other three, were clearly high-ranking. The ornate adornments testified to that. They moved with an almost alien grace, but their presence was definitely more intimidating than calming. He couldn't make anything else out about them, though. He had to wonder who had decided to conscript him, especially on such short notice. Did they know what he had done to get here? Or had they just been stuck scraping the bottom of the barrel? As they drew closer, the swordsmaster guessed he was going to find out.

"Hello again, Aiden." They whispered.

Wait a godsdamn minute… If Aiden hadn't been paralyzed, he was sure his jaw would've hit the floor.

"This'll only take a moment." As if on cue, the four Grimleal each grabbed onto the hands of the initiates, enfolding them in their own. To Aiden, it seemed a surprisingly tender action. Then, it began.

He felt…something. It was hard to describe, really. A strange sensation that began in his hands, then his arms, then slowly encompassed his whole being. Then, suddenly, he was depressed. The world seemed slightly grayer, both figuratively and literally. Things were so gloomy. Then he was shocked awake by the pain. Pins and needles coursed through his arms for just a few moments, and then…nothing. The sensation faded, he felt his arms drop back to his sides. Heck, even the paralysis spell had faded away.

The Grimleal backed away, and the initiates- if they could be referred to as such now- looked around. At each other, the audience, Aversa, their new masters. Almost unconsciously, Aiden raised his hand. There was a tugging sensation in the depths of his mind, and for a brief moment a mote of energy sparked to life in his palm. It dissipated, leaving a tiny hole in space, a black dot devoid of light before that, too, faded away.

"You have all been granted a great gift." Aversa continued. "But it is not without its price. You are now sworn to serve those who bestowed this gift upon you, and in doing so, fulfill your destinies. You are initiates no longer, but instead can be truly considered Grimleal. Go forth, and may Grima guide you."

The initiates bowed, and stepped off the platforms. The rest of the room remained quiet, though the stares directed at him seemed much less cold than before. The new Grimleal were ushered out through a doorway on the other end of the chamber, and told to await those who would soon join their ranks.

* * *

A hand clapped down on Aiden's shoulder. He turned around.

"Looks like we made it, huh?" Borri grinned. "Official agents of the Fell Dragon, or something like that. I did not expect that paralysis spell, though. I wound up awkwardly balanced one only one foot when it went off."

""You seem happy." Aiden told him.

"Of course! I'm not stuck with the career killer, thank Grima. My new boss is a real piece of work, though. Super devout, and one hell of a spell-slinger, from what I've heard. But, hey, as long as I get to have fun, I'm not complaining. You?"

"To be honest, I'm still processing things. My cell is-"

"Oh, good, you're both here." Aiden's boss approached the pair. There was no doubt now as to their identity.

"You could've told me you were someone important when I signed on, Cera." Aiden told her.

"Ah, but what would be the fun in that?" She asked, smiling. "There are a great many things you don't know about me, swordsmaster."

"Yeah, I could say the same thing, but you'd think something like 'you're gonna be under my command' would have come up before now."

"So what you're saying," Borri chimed in, "is I somehow wound up stuck with you two? Fate smiled on me today...do we have a fourth?" From somewhere behind Cera, someone cleared their throat.

"Looking for me?" The boy asked, forcefully shoving his way into the group and the conversation.

"Who's the kid?" Borri asked.

"If I were you," the aforementioned kid replied, "I'd watch your tongue around your superiors."

"In case you didn't get the memo," Borri replied, "The only person who's my 'superior' here is her." He pointed a thumb towards Cera, who seemed entirely content to let this unfold.

"That may be true for now, but I doubt it will be long before I outrank you. For the time being, you may call me Jered." Suddenly, the sly mirth that had been apparent in Borri's expression disappeared. He straightened up very quickly and nodded.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say." He replied tersely. Aiden shot him an inquisitive glance. Borri made it clear he'd tell Aiden later.

"So," Aiden began, surveying the three individuals with who he would probably spend a great deal of time. "What now?"

* * *

_That's all for now, folks. Next chapter will be up…sometime soon, and authors notes will be up within the hour, I think. As always, please review. Tell me what you liked/didn't like, etc. Especially with this chapter, since there was so much going on. And feel free to ask questions about things that don't make sense. Sometimes it's intentional, but sometimes I just forget what I've written down and what's still floating in my head._


	12. Chapter 12: A Brighter Tomorrow

_Hi there! New chapter is here. It's a relatively short one, unfortunately. I meant for this more to be about checking up on the gang (and a certain notable someone who has been relatively deprived of screentime) and seeing what the state of the world is, rather than a very eventful and action-filled chapter. But the beginnings of some important plot threads are interspersed throughout, so…you know. This might be something to come back to later._

_I'm also going to be doing a fairly meaty author's notes section for some of this stuff, especially near the end, which could be innately confusing despite my best efforts. So, take a look at my profile after a few minutes and take a look, if you're so inclined. And please review!_

* * *

One thing Shione could say about his new career was that there was rarely a dull day. When he had offered help to the besieged Ylissean forces back in the war, he hadn't really considered that Anem had also come with a conscription into the Pegasus Knights. But once the fighting had ended, that reality had reared its head. Now, his daily routine was full of training exercises, patrols, and every other duty that was expected of a full member of the Ylissean Army. He was no longer just a part of Cainne's group or even the Shepherds. And since they were still no closer to finding Aiden or their way home, he wasn't going to be abandoning his post any time soon.

It wasn't all bad. The work was exciting enough, since they essentially had to put together the pieces of a nation whose whole lifestyle had been shattered by war. And in exchange for their help, Cainne and the others did have the support of Chrom and Ylisse in their hunt, an agreement he had made sure he was part of. But for the moment, he was stuck in Ylisstol while the others had left on their search.

He was still a rookie by army standards, after all, and even though he had shown that he knew what he was doing in combat, he was still required to undergo basic training. At least he wasn't alone; Sumia was in the exact same position. Cordelia, on the other hand, had been elevated to the position of captain in light of her prior experience in the armed forces and her dutiful service. Captain Phila, though she had survived the battle that had wiped out most of their number, had been grievously wounded. Between the severe damage to her lower body and the spiritual blow of losing the Exalt, she had retired. Captain Thaneta had returned to her posting on the border mountains with what few soldiers she had left, aiming to repair the garrison.

With the situation of Ylisse's armed forces, it was understandable that they wanted to keep him around, even if it was annoying. What little military power they originally had was mostly wiped out in the fighting. The pegasus knights, for example, were crippled. What had been a squadron garrisoned at the capital was reduced to seven, including the new captain, himself, and two new recruits who had joined after the war.

Despite this, Shione was relatively certain that there were very few who would dare attack Ylisse. The nation's former enemy, Plegia, was far too immersed with its own internal conflict to bother its neighbors. The fighting had died down, mostly, though the country was still very much divided on what would become of its people. Though Shione had heard rumors that a high-ranking Grimleal was gathering support among all sections of the population, so it was possible that a new government would soon arise. More importantly, though, was that Ylisse had proven what it was capable of. Word of the amazing feats pulled by Chrom's Shepherds and their tactician had spread quickly after the war had officially ended. Most powers on the continent weren't too willing to fight the same handful of people who had almost single-handedly decided every major battle they were involved in and won the war.

The men and women who made up Chrom's elite had scattered once they were no longer needed, or at least as much as possible with most of the force being Ylissean. Shione had no doubt, however, that they would be ready if they were called on again, even free elements like Anna and the Plegian mage, Tharja. They all had reason enough to come back, after all. It was even possible that said dark mage was in the city even now, stalking poor Robin.

Shione supposed he, along with Cordelia and Sumia, were among those individuals who would be called back into that irregular force if the need arose. But until that time came, he was stuck with training exercises and patrol duty.

And every once in a while, something interesting. Like today: he was on parade duty. He was in full battle uniform, even if it was much cleaner currently than it ever would be in combat. His armor, which had been provided to him as a replacement and improvement over the equipment he had shown up in, gleamed a bright silver in the noon sunlight, complementing the freshly polished and sharpened polearm he carried at the ready. Anem was equally well-adorned in light but effective barding and a headpiece featuring an ornamental horn. With the exception of Shione's weapon, horse and rider matched the four others that trotted alongside them. The fifth, Cordelia, led the group in an outfit that was identical but for its golden sheen.

Normally, they would have been accompanied by Sumia, but they'd all figured it would have been cruel to make her work on her own wedding day.

He had as much cause to celebrate as any of the citizens who lined the streets of Ylisstol, waving banners and tossing colored tissue in the air. After all, today's royal wedding was proof that he'd live to see another day despite a truly monumental slip of the tongue. Who would have guessed that one off-handed comment would have caused Sumia to try and set her old friend up with the prince?

Fortunately, it turned out that idolizing someone behind their back without so much as speaking to them was a great way to foster unrealistic notions and expectations about them. Apparently, the casual meeting over tea that Sumia had helped arrange had remained a simple meeting between friends, while Cordelia quickly came to realize that her ideal man was, in fact, a human being that she had no romantic future with. Or at least, that was what it had looked like to Lyta as she spied on the proceedings. In any other situation, Shione would have considered the surveillance incredibly creepy, but he wasn't going to refuse any help in fixing the mess he'd caused. Desperate times, and all that.

In any case, Chrom and Sumia had eventually fallen for each other, and now here everyone was, almost a year after Ylisse's victory. True love had triumphed, good had defeated evil, etcetera. Now the prince and his bride were getting married in front of the whole city of Ylisstol. And Shione was going to have to stand outside for the whole ceremony and look stately. That, at least, he had experience with. Being a military man was something new, but he knew his way around a formal gathering.

Still, he was grateful that Anem was with him for the moment. He had no doubt that his feet would be aching by the end of the day.

* * *

There were benefits associated with being a member of the Shepherds that Cainne had come to enjoy. A steady source of income, the direct backing of a kingdom, and even a small degree of fame for what they had accomplished. But what Cainne appreciated most was something the others most likely didn't consider: the ability to walk through the city without having to hide her identity. The last time she had been in Ylisstol, she'd had to hide _what_ she was, let alone who. Now, although she still received strange and curious glances, onlookers simply marveled at the strange company Chrom kept, rather than seeing a strange and potentially threatening foreigner. And although she still had secrets to keep, it was far easier to hide these things in plain sight.

The city was especially lively with the festivities going on, so she was happy that she could walk around and enjoy it all. Thousands crowded the streets, both from the city and beyond its walls. People from a dozen nations crossed paths every minute. Even someone as distinctly nonhuman as herself was easily lost in the crowd. The overall joyous atmosphere and the freely flowing alcohol didn't hurt matters either. For once, she could enjoy the day like anyone else.

And there was plenty to enjoy. As she strolled down Ylisstol's main street, she was able to admire the wedding procession as it passed. The parade was making progress towards the castle, but slowly. It was besieged on all sides by admirers and revelers, and the guards who had been stationed on the street were having a difficult time keeping some of the more foolhardy or drunk from charging the procession. The ceremony itself would be a much more private affair, one that not even the Shepherds would see unless they were family. However, they had all received invitations to the celebration afterwards. Cainne planned on attending, if just to make sure Martin and Shione didn't get into trouble.

Speaking of Shione, it appeared he had been pulled into the celebrations as well. Cainne was able to get a good look as he passed by. He looked good in uniform, Cainne had to admit. He seemed comfortable in this setting, more than any of the others in their group probably felt. Cainne watched the group of Ylissean knights go past without bothering to try and grab his attention. They would eventually have to discuss Shione's knack for finding trouble, though. The cavalryman was aware that his actions had changed events significantly, but he still seemed to stumble into conflict far more frequently than anyone else.

Or, at least more frequently than anyone she was aware of. Cainne didn't think the Plegian King's sudden change of heart and even more sudden disappearance had anything to do with Shione, and she was uncomfortably aware that that the man they were tracking would have no compunction about changing the timeline of this world. She hoped that, if Aiden was to blame, it was due to ignorance rather than willful action. But she just didn't know anymore.

Out of the four members of their group, Cainne had been the one who had been closest to Aiden before he had run off. She had thought that she understood him. The last time she had seen him…gods, it had been before their journey to this timeline. He had been acting oddly for a few weeks, and she knew that something had been troubling him for even longer than that. But when she had talked to him about it, he had brushed her off and tried to reassure her that he was fine. She had hoped that he would open up eventually. But then he had tried to run off, and she had been sent after him. Unlike the others, Cainne still hadn't made up her mind about the swordsmaster's guilt. He had committed a crime, certainly, and she hated what he had done. But until she knew why he had done it, Cainne didn't know if she hated the man himself.

Once, she had been able to tell what he was thinking. Now, she could only wish that she knew.

As Cainne glanced at her surroundings, someone passed by her, going in the opposite direction. This was to be expected on a crowded street, but the effort the other individual had made to stay out of Cainne's sight made them stand out. Cainne turned around to see if she could get a better view, and was able to pick them out of the crowd almost instantly. They had tried their best to remain inconspicuous, but Cainne would have recognized them anywhere.

It really wasn't her place to pry, but Cainne was curious. She followed.

* * *

The midday sunlight glinted off of the sword's blade as she examined it. She knew that, somewhere else in the city, an almost identical weapon was likely even now resting on the hip of the groom-to-be. The woman who was known here as Marth and elsewhere as Lucina watched the teardrop-shaped opening in Falchion's hilt intently. It remained vacant, as usual. The sword was exactly the same as the hundreds of times she had looked it over before, exactly the same as it had looked on the night of the assassination attempt until a strange blue glow had filled the opening. Try as she may, Lucina had been unable to determine what had caused the strange glow, and had later wondered if her eyes had been deceived, dazzled by the blow that cut her mask in two. But the same glow had appeared frequently near the end of the war with Plegia. It was when the appearance of the glow coincided with the announcement of a ceasefire with Plegia that she started to wonder if it signified that the future had been changed.

If that was the case, then that meant that she was on the right course. Fate could be altered. That Chrom had survived that night without so much as a scratch was, perhaps, evidence of this…but Emmeryn was dead, drawn to her doom just as surely as if Lucina hadn't stopped those assassins.

Was fate truly predetermined? No. She couldn't believe that. It would mean that everything she had done, every sacrifice that had been made to bring her here, was in vain. It would mean that they were all doomed. That was something she could not accept. She had to keep moving forward. She had to prevent Grima from awakening.

All she had to do was stop his avatar before they could become his vessel. If there was no avatar, there would be no Grima. But who were they? She had once been told that it was someone close to Chrom. But at this point in time, Chrom was close to quite a few people. Any one of the Shepherds could have qualified as "close".

That wasn't to say that she didn't have her suspicions. The Plegian members of the Shepherds were obvious suspects, though the dark mage was a relatively new addition to the group. Robin, on the other hand, seemed to be a very close friend of Chrom's, and she did not recall what had become of him in her time. Speaking of which, she had never even heard of the four individuals who had come to the Shepherds' aid during the assassination attempt. Their presence was suspicious, to say the least. However, all of them had done plenty to prove their loyalty. She couldn't imagine any of them being traitors. Then there was that strange swordsman who had appeared out of nowhere on the battlefield who had seemed incredibly determined to ensure that she was literally anywhere else, and had seemed almost too familiar with who she was. She didn't trust him in the slightest…but Chrom probably wasn't aware that he even existed.

Lucina noticed that she had been unconsciously rubbing Falchion's grip. The motion soothed her and helped her remember what her life had once been like. Sighing, she stood up and sheathed the sword. She had an excellent view of the city below from up here. This bell tower hadn't been used for at least a decade, if the cobwebs were anything to judge by. She had found this place in another time, when she had been very young and the world had seemed so bright. It had been the staging ground for many childhood fantasies. But, she reminded herself, that bell tower was gone. This one had never borne witness to the adventures of a young girl, and would not for a few more years. But the celebration below made it clear that its time would yet come. And if Lucina was able to stop Grima, that other little girl would grow up in a better world.

She had briefly considered joining the festivities below, but it had all seemed wrong to her. It was like Gerome had said when he gave her that mask: this wasn't their world. These people weren't their parents, as much as she had wished they were. Lucina understood this, but every time she came across Chrom, she realized that she hadn't accepted it. She wanted so much to tell him everything, to have someone to call father again, to be part of a family…but that would never happen.

The Chrom of this world had a family, and would soon have daughters of his own. Even if Lucina succeeded in her mission here, they would never know who she was. They might never even know just how close they had come to tragedy. At best, Lucina would be the mysterious figure who had saved Chrom's life on a night long ago. Then, when the families of this world were safe, she might finally be able to move on with her life and forget her own ghosts.

The sun was slowly beginning its descent towards the horizon, though there was still plenty of time left in the day. Lucina knew that she would have to leave the city soon, or be caught up in the city's revelry. She turned away from the window and shifted her gaze to the stairwell.

She hadn't expected someone to meet her gaze.

"Who-what are you doing here?" She stammered out.

"Forgive the intrusion," Cainne responded, "but the view is certainly worth the climb."

"How did you find me?"

"You aren't quite as inconspicuous as you'd like to think, Marth." Cainne told her. "I was wondering why you seemed so intent on getting away from all the fun everyone else is having."

"I'm fine. This event just isn't for me." Lucina answered. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" She tried to slip past Cainne down the stairwell, but the Taguel's expression saddened and she tried to stop Lucina.

"Listen, I…I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot." Cainne shook her head. "Would you mind if we just…sat, for a bit?" Warily, Lucina nodded, and returned to her perch. Cainne wandered next to her.

"I get the feeling you don't exactly trust me." Cainne said after a short pause. "I understand; I'm not sure exactly if you trust anyone in the Shepherds. You certainly don't seem like the type to go gallivanting around with the rest of us. But I saw what you did for the Exalt and the prince. You saved them that night. The rest of us just helped. So…I think we're on the same side."

"You do?" Lucina asked. She wasn't sure where this conversation was going. What did Cainne want from her? Was she just being friendly? "How can you be sure?"

"I think we both want the same thing." Cainne said. "To protect the people we care about. To help the Shepherds and Ylisse. I can't be sure, but I've seen what you've done for us all."

"You don't know the whole story." Lucina replied, at least in part out of anger towards this stranger who had intruded on her lamentations. How could Cainne possibly understand what she had been through?

"You're right, I don't." Cainne answered, unperturbed. "It's clear that the woman named after a legendary hero, who masqueraded around as a man and wields a blade that no one knew existed has her secrets. I respect that; I have my own. Everyone does. But no one is asking you to give up everything. I guess what I'm trying to say is…if you ever need a place to stay, or want help, I think I speak for most of the Shepherds when I say that we'll be there to lend a hand. Even if they won't, I will. Consider it my way of repaying the debt we owe you for everything that you've done."

"…Thank you." Lucina replied, caught off guard. She couldn't accept the offer, but the thought was surprisingly tempting. "I'll consider it." Cainne smiled, and for once, Lucina allowed herself to do the same.

"I don't know about you, but I'm planning on enjoying the festivities." Cainne spoke up. "You might seriously want to reconsider attending. After all, when are you ever going to get another chance to attend a party like this?" Lucina had to admit, it was tempting. She could smell the food from here, and the bright decorations were clearly visible.

"Cainne!" Someone called from behind them. "There you are!" An assassin in a black cloak ran up to the Taguel, taking a moment to nod in Lucina's direction.

"Lyta?" Cainne asked. "What do you want?" And how many more people were going to come barging into the belltower, Lucina wondered silently.

"Martin sent me to find you." Lyta replied. "Be quiet about it, we don't want to disturb the revelers. But it's pretty important you find him outside the main gate." For a moment, Lucina wondered if they were planning something. But then the assassin turned to her with a very serious expression. "You might want to come, too."

* * *

"They've got just absolutely fantastic timing, don't they?" Martin asked the guard standing next to him at the gate.

"Depends on what you mean by fantastic." The guard responded. "This just looks like more paperwork, to me. Damn, I wish I was stationed inside."

"Well, it's your lucky day." Martin told him. "We can handle this. You just take it easy."

"Oh, and who are you?" The guard asked skeptically.

"Why, I'm a Shepherd!" Martin responded. Seeing the others drawing close, he added. "And I'm not alone."

"Suit yourself." The guard sighed. "Less work for me." Having said his piece, he leaned back against the gatehouse wall and started to nurse a lukewarm drink.

"Martin, why'd you call us here?" Cainne asked.

"Take a look for yourself." He pointed out towards the fields beyond the walls, where a few revelers who seemed too drunk to stand properly had gathered….no, not revelers. Their gray skin and misshapen masks revealed them as Risen.

"Let's see here…two, three, four. That should be everybody." Martin remarked after a quick headcount. "No, wait, Shione's on duty, so who's…well, hiya, Marth." Marth briefly raised a hand in greeting.

"Why exactly are we here, then? Shouldn't we let the others know?" Lyta asked.

"Well, I figured that they'd appreciate some time off, what with everything going on. Plus, Chrom would inevitably find out, and there goes the whole wedding." Martin mimed a small explosion with his hands, for dramatic effect. The icy stares he got in return were not quite encouraging. "There's like twelve of them. How hard can it be?"

"Need I remind our tactician that, even with Marth's assistance, this equates to three-to-one odds?" Cainne asked.

"Look at 'em!" Martin replied, gesturing towards the Risen who prowled the field. They were currently ambling around aimlessly. "They barely have a thought between them. It's almost sad, really. We go out there, mop them up, everyone in Ylisstol is safe and happy, and we're back in time for the real party."

"You're bored, aren't you?" Lyta asked.

"Maybe…" Martin almost whispered in response. Well, it was true.

"Gods help us." Cainne shook her head. "Alright, we'll take care of them."

* * *

Sure enough, Shione's feet were starting to ache. The six pegasus knights were arrayed in front of the doors to the palace, mostly for decoration but also to deal with any unruly citizens. Luckily, as it was the middle of the day in one of the most peaceful cities on the continent, the revelers were well behaved. No one had tried to interrupt the ceremony going on in the castle's shrine, thankfully. No assassins or undead, either. A good day for a wedding. Even now, the happy couple were probably exchanging vows or having their marriage consecrated in Naga's name. Shione briefly wondered if Libra was officiating. The ceremony would also serve as a sort of coronation, as Ylisse was currently without an official ruler. Chrom, with Sumia at his side, would officially take over after today. He wouldn't take the title of Exalt out of respect for Emmeryn, but he would have power all the same.

And Shione got to stand outside while it all happened. Honestly, it was the most ordinary thing he'd done since this adventure had started. It was familiar. Although he would always love the feeling of flight, he was confident in his abilities to stand still and look intimidating.

"Hey, captain." Shione quietly called out the individual standing next to him. "What do you think of the wedding?"

"I'm sure it's a lovely affair." Cordelia replied. "They make a nice couple. I'm...happy for them"

"Good to hear you've gotten over Chrom."

"You knew?" Cordelia was slightly aghast.

"Yeah, me and everyone else. Except Chrom and Sumia."

"Everyo-"

"Yes, everyone." Shione replied. "Don't worry, no one's judging you for it. We're mostly just glad you've moved on. Maybe you two can finally have conversations like real human beings."

"Oh, gods." Cordelia sighed, or more accurately said the word. "I made a fool of myself, didn't I?"

"It could have been worse." Shione answered. You could've married him, he silently added. "And you at least walked away as friends."

"He's a good man, but I suppose I realized he wasn't who I imagined him to be." Cordelia stated flatly. "Now, I just have to redeem myself."

"Excuse me?" Shione's eyes widened.

"After making such a fool of myself, I have to show everyone I can still be of use on the battlefield. I just need to work even harder, train more often, and master myself. It shouldn't be too difficult."

"You know that everyone else already thinks very highly of you, right?" Shione responded. "You're going to make the rest of us look bad."

"Then I suggest you intensify your own training regime, recruit." Cordelia told him. This time, it was Shione who said the word "sigh".

* * *

"This was a terrible idea!" Lyta called out. She nocked another arrow and let it fly at the Risen knight, only to watch it bounce off of the creature's heavy plate. Martin's fireball connected shortly after, the magical flame melting through the metal. Lyta switched targets, firing off an arrow at a mercenary that was getting too close. A Risen lancer charged from behind as the mercenary fell to the ground. Lyta tried to dodge, but it had caught her unawares. Martin barreled into the thing, knocking it away from her. Lyta grabbed a knife from her waist and threw it at the thing, striking it in the head.

"Please, I'm a tactical genius." Martin scoffed. "See? Three Risen dead, already. Three-to-one odds… not anymore."

"Except that there's two of us, so we need to kill six to do our fair share." Lyta grumbled.

"I knew that." Martin sheepishly replied. "Speaking of which, here they come!" Lyta sighed and grabbed another arrow.

* * *

"How much longer is this ceremony supposed to last?" Shione asked.

"I don't think it'll be too long." Cordelia replied. Shione wondered where his friends were. He'd have expected Martin to have shown his face by now, at least. The tactician would have loved to taunt him…from a safe distance, naturally. Shione couldn't bite back if he was on duty. But the tactician wasn't here. Maybe Martin had matured a little.

* * *

"Watch out!" Cainne called. Lucina was already aware of the threat, bringing Falchion between herself and the Risen's blade, which skipped off. She struck at the creature's exposed chest, cutting it down easily. Cainne, too, seemed to have the situation under control, avoiding attacks she could and catching what she couldn't on the shaft of her lance. She swept the legs out from underneath one attacker, thrust her lance through an opening in another's armor, and just as quickly brought it back down against the now prone first attacker.

Lucina was surprised when the wooden shaft cracked in half, but Cainne took it in stride, almost instinctively using one end to batter the third attacker while she used the bladed end as a sort of impromptu sword. Eventually, she tossed the remains away and continued the fight in her beast form. Lucina had to admit, the Taguel was a skilled fighter, and had far more familiarity with human weapons than she would have suspected.

"Who taught you to fight?" Lucina asked her. Cainne just shrugged, and another attack cut off her answer.

* * *

"Well…this is pretty uneventful." Shione said.

"Would you prefer it to be busy?" Cordelia asked.

"Fair point."

* * *

"I think that's the last of them." Cainne said, running up to the rest of the group. Lucina followed close behind.

"What'd I tell you? Easy." Martin stated. Then he caught sight of Cainne's equipment. "You broke another lance?"

"I'm not too displeased. This one lasted almost a whole year." Cainne responded.

"Clearly something has to be done about that." Martin replied. "So, I was going to check out the festivities, but I think Cainne and I are going to go over basic weapon care first."

"Really?" Cainne asked. "We're going to do this now?"

"Damn right we are. This is starting to cut into our funding."

"Fine. I suppose I'll see all of you around the festival later tonight, then?"

Surprising even herself, Lucina nodded. Maybe things weren't as grim as she'd believed.

* * *

Lyta watched the others depart before heading off on her own.

Unlike the others, she wasn't nearly as pleased with their current situation. They'd spent almost a year after the war searching for Aiden and hadn't found a single sign of the swordsmaster. What if it took them another year, or even another war, to find him? What if they never did? What if he decided to leave them here and used the tome to get out of this dimension?

Lyta knew that she didn't belong here. This world wasn't her home, not that she really had a place that she called home anymore. The people here were just potential threats. Lon'qu didn't trust her, neither did Marth. How long until the others felt the same way?

To make things worse, they had already wrought havoc on this timeline. Just their presence had caused so much chaos. Emmeryn was dead, some of her countrymen were alive, Gangrel had disappeared, and now Plegia was tearing itself apart. Even when they had tried their best not to interfere, the simple fact that they were there had affected everyone around them. The longer they stayed here, the more they put the fate of this world at risk. It would be better for everyone involved if they could just go back to where they came from and forget this ever happened.

But the others- Cainne, Shione, Martin- They all at least had found friendships among the Shepherds. They were happy here. They had found a lifestyle that suited them. She…she hadn't. She couldn't make friends. They were a liability at best and a risk at worst. There were four people she had ever trusted enough to consider them friends. And of those four, one had already betrayed her and the others seemed to be growing more distant by the day. She didn't want to go back without Martin and the others, but if the opportunity came to go home with the stolen relics and they didn't go back with her…she didn't know what she would do.

Her first instinct would be to return. This timeline would never be for her. And their mission was to return those relics, first and foremost. But there was nothing tying her even to her own timeline. And if the people she cared most about drifted away…what would be left for her in this timeline, or any other?

They had to find Aiden before they inadvertently plunged the timeline into chaos. She had to find Aiden before she lost only people she had left.

* * *

"It's not exactly the same, sure, but the same techniques I use to keep my sword in good condition can still apply to your lance." Martin told Cainne. "Make sure the cutting edge is honed, take a whetstone to it on occasion when you can't just realign the edge, and make sure the wood is well-maintained. It'll help if you stop using it to block so many attacks, too. Avoid them, if possible. Or at least reinforce part of the shaft so you have something sturdier to block with."

"I appreciate the tips, Martin." Cainne balanced her new weapon in her hands. "But I get the feeling that you didn't want me in here just to talk about weapon maintenance." She looked around the room in the barracks, empty except for them. Martin had spent the last hour or so trying to make sure that this lance would remain useful for a long time yet. But something seemed to be troubling him.

"Was it that obvious?" Martin asked. "I guess I never was good at hiding my emotions."

"Is this about what happened earlier?" Cainne asked. "Because I understood what you meant when you said you were bored. I know that you were-"

"No, that's not it." Martin waved her off. "It's about us. All of us. And what we may have to do. It's been almost a year since we've seen any sign of Aiden. He said we'd meet again, but there's been nothing so far. What if this next year is just as unsuccessful as the last?"

"I have to believe that we'll find him, Martin." Cainne replied. "Or that he'll find us. The alternative is that we're stuck in this timeline for the foreseeable future."

"The more I think about it, the likelier it sounds. I don't know how we're going to find him as it is. He could be anywhere. We don't have the resources to search every nation across two continents- three, if he's decided to go to Jugdral. But I don't think he'll be able to hide forever. He won't want to. Whatever Aiden is doing, it's brought him to the heart of much of the conflict here. He was there when the war with Plegia started, and there when it ended."

"You think that the war with Valm is going to bring him out of hiding." Cainne realized. Martin nodded.

"It's just a hunch, and I'm not suggesting we stop searching. But we've found nothing by looking on our own. It's entirely possible that he's been doing what we are, and sticking with the people and the history we all know. If that's the case, Valm will be our chance to find him. And if not, then I'm almost certain what comes after will bring him out of hiding."

"What you suggest would mean that we get involved with yet another conflict, at the very least." Cainne told him. "Another war. More combat, more death, more tough decisions, a greater chance that we do something terrible. Is that what you want?"

"I'm not sure we have a choice anymore, Cainne." Martin said. "If I thought we could all go home tomorrow, you know I would take that course. But I don't know how we'd do that. And so I have to ask…If we're still here when Valm sets foot on Feroxi shores, what would you have us do?"

"If it comes to that, then I suppose we'll just have to keep doing what we always have." Cainne looked to Martin. "We'll stick with the Shepherds, and we'll keep trying to help people. If we change the future, then we'll deal with that too. But most importantly, we'll find Aiden. And we'll bring him back."

"Yeah, we will." Martin affirmed. "And you can count on me to keep giving sound tactical advice. I guess that's it, then."

"Not quite. If we do wind up in the Valm campaign, we won't be the only ones out of their own time. Marth isn't going to remain a solitary hero for much longer. And when her friends do finally show up…"

"We'll deal with that if and when we come to it. For now, we just keep the same cover we've been using. If something happens and we need to change our strategy, then that's something all four of us will need to handle. I'd rather not discuss it without Lyta and Shione."

"Fair enough." Cainne responded. "For the time being, there's a party that I sorely want to attend."

* * *

For the first time in far too long, he felt the evening breeze against his cheek. It had taken a significant investment of time and energy to get here, but it was worth it. To think, an entire year wasted, spent floating through the ether as little more than thoughts, unable to act out his own will…well, no more. Grima curled and uncurled the fingers on his hand, as if to confirm that they still worked.

It had taken considerable time and effort to summon this form. In fact, it surprised him that he had been able to do it at all. He was only a partial manifestation of the being who controlled this mortal host, after all. A fragment, sent to ensure that his supremacy remained unchallenged in this world as well as the original. Manifesting in a physical form like this was a great risk. This host was the very thing that had allowed his original self to manifest in the other timeline, and what anchored him to reality. If it was destroyed somehow, then he would not be the only being to fall. The greater being that he had been split off from would fall as well, doomed to the same fate. But there were precious few things in this or any other world that could effectively harm him.

And being able to once more walk around, to feel the breeze and see the world around him, was entirely worth it.

Grima pushed open the doorway that had been concealed in the face of the cliff and strode into the temple. The two heavily armored guardsmen that met him, brandishing lances in his direction, did not intimidate him in the least. He was weaker than he would have liked, yes. His original self still held onto most of his power. But he was more than capable of dealing with any mortal that might challenge him.

He waved his hand and tapped into a portion of his godly power. The ensuing blast shook the building to its rocky foundations and sent the guards hurtling backwards, nearly dead.

"Come now, what sort of greeting was that?" He asked. "Validar, I expected better from you."

"My-my lord!" The Grimleal hierarch stammered out, standing up from the planning table he had been overseeing. "You have my apologies! We did not know that you would be arriving…or that you would take a mortal form. Does this mean-"

"No, I cannot yet ascend." Grima cut him off. "Carry on with your plans, and see that they are seen to their conclusion. Then I will have the power to enact my will. I am here now to deal with those who have until this point avoided their fate. To act as an…advisor, of sorts." The truth was somewhat more complex. He did not have the power to take on his true form, it was true. Such strength was already in use in another time. But Validar's actions would not benefit him. Rather, if all went according to his plans, the Grima of this world would be allowed to rise and fulfill his destiny. He himself would return to his own world, having completed his task. But if the child refused their fate…

"Of course, my lord." Validar spoke, barely audible. "What would you have me do?"

"For now, nothing." Grima spoke. "But I foresee many great things to come, and I will need your service to bring them to fruition." More importantly, he had to deal with the mortals he had followed across time, the ones who wished so desperately to stop him. As if they weren't enough of a problem, he had to stop the meddlers who thought to interfere with matters that were not their own. But where others would have seen a challenge, he saw an opportunity.

To think, his age old enemy would provide him the tools to bring about his victory, and to undo the damage she had already caused across countless dimensions. All he needed was a book...

* * *

_What no one here could tell you is that I finished up with finals, so who knows, maybe I can write this more often with a more open schedule. I do have a summer job, though, so we'll see what I can do. Also, I'm going to be leaving for a week sometime today, so if there isn't any author's notes an hour after this is posted, there probably won't be any for a long time (but do take a look. I added in something I completely forgot to write about last chapter.)_

_Incidentally, I've started a playthrough of Fates (Birthright) on lunatic. It's tough…but I think I'm having a much easier time of it than I did with Awakening, which I never got very far in. _

_Next chapter will either occur slightly before or concurrently with this one chronologically, but it involves the people introduced last chapter, so I didn't feel like writing about them so soon after devoting an entire large chapter to Aiden and Aiden alone. But there is something both share in common: parties._


	13. Chapter 13: A Darker Yesterday

_Another day, another chapter. Yes, it is slow going, and for that I apologize. I actually intend to have finished the interlude chapters (of which there are a few more) before the summer ends, though life has happened to me (meaning I have personal things and work to deal with too, but I'm optimistic). This chapter covers what was happening across the sea around the same time as the last chapter in terms of timeframe, but we'll be moving forward soon. And for the first time since I started the interlude section, I was able to sit down and go over my plans, meaning I have a clear idea of where I'm going next with all this, hopefully meaning I can pick up the pace._

_In other news, Monster Hunter and moving woes are primed to consume me soon, which is why I'm getting this out now. The next chapter will be out...soonish?_

_As always, review (or even follow this!). Knowing that there are people out there who want to read this is part of what gives me enough of a kick in the pants to actually sit down and write. The other part is inspiration, which I have learned is all too real (and all too fickle) a thing. You people can only control one of those, so go and do it!_

* * *

For once, things were quiet. Aiden appreciated it. The months after his journey here had been chaotic, to say the least. He had been traveling or fighting constantly right up until the end of the war. Things had, of course, changed once he joined the Grimleal. They worked in the shadows and valued silence. But even then, the last few months had been busy. When they weren't on some mission or another, Aiden was secretly trying to figure out how he could get back the tome, now securely in Grimleal possession somewhere far away. Even inside the organization, secrets were kept. But for the moment, all he had to worry about was the rain pattering on the roof.

It rained here often. Even when it didn't, gray clouds often filled the skies. Some could have called it dreary. But the rain meant that the plants here had plenty of water, and on those days when the sun broke through, the forests and fields nearby were verdant. In fact, the small Valmese town that Aiden currently called home reminded him of the village where he grew up. He'd spent much of his own childhood exploring forests like the one that surrounded the small cottage he currently sat in. This assignment had been almost like returning home.

The other three members of their cell were elsewhere, each keeping themselves occupied somehow, whether that meant training, studying, preparing for the next mission, or working on whatever hobby they were interested in. Aiden himself had spent the morning practicing his magic outside, before the rain had driven him in. He was improving, but slowly. He'd much rather rely on his sword than a spell, for now.

He'd been able to practice fairly regularly thanks to the isolation of the shack they called home. It was separated from the rest of the village by thick woods and distance, but the four made an effort to maintain a presence in town. When Aiden had first seen the place, he'd been surprised by how well-maintained it was. He'd been expecting some ramshackle dwelling that would keep civilians away while they worked in secrecy. But it had been explained to him that, if someone came searching for practitioners of dark magic, the first place they'd look would be old and foreboding ruins like the one he imagined. Rather, in order to keep a low profile, they just needed to act like normal people. In an entirely ordinary home and without their uniform, the four of them simply blended in with the rest of the village. The physical distance they kept between themselves and the village proper was unusual, but not so much that it stuck out in a land full of isolated hamlets and farms.

But while it was entirely ordinary on the outside, the interior was another story. The sleeping and living quarters that made up most of the house were plain enough, but underneath all that was a network of tunnels containing everything a Grimleal cell needed to operate. A small armory, stores of food and water, a library of information about the region, spare sleeping quarters, and even a shrine to Grima had all been excavated underground long before they had gotten here.

But they had left their own mark on the place in the months they had operated from the location. Borri's collection of specialty arrows- a stockpile that was equal parts novel, utilitarian, strange, and deadly- filled one wall in the armory, while the big guy himself was often found snoring away on his bed. Jered practically lived in the library, and as a result always seemed to know everything about everyone. The fact that he hadn't yet found any dirt on Aiden had been a source of friction between them, though they worked together well enough. And Cera…Cera actually hadn't left any sort of mark behind. Aiden didn't know if it was because she, as the senior member of the cell, felt responsible for keeping order, or if it was something about who she was as a person. She seemed like a very self-sufficient, even isolated individual. He'd never once seen her ever ask for anything, help included, unless it was vital for a mission.

There had been plenty of those, though. And by some stroke of luck, Aiden had yet to find himself facing the situation he had been dreading: being tasked with a mission against Ylisse or his friends. Instead, they'd been mostly deployed against Valmese targets, spreading discord among the ranks and hindering their military progress. From what Aiden understood, the high-ranking Grimleal didn't like the thought of a very powerful military force trying to unify the world against them…it was funny how that worked. Valm had been useful when they needed to keep Gangrel under their thumb, but when the sword was suddenly at their own throat… Aiden didn't mind the missions. He knew The Grimleal wouldn't be the only ones that would eventually cross swords with the Valmese. Maybe the supplies he'd sabotaged and the people he'd driven from the army might mean the Shepherds would have fewer enemies to contend with.

The team he was with were effective. They'd pulled off a couple dozen operations over the last year, and if Cera was to be believed, someone was impressed. New jobs kept rolling in, and along with them came more supplies and better equipment to ensure they got the job done. As Cera explained it, the militant arm of the Grimleal was very interested in making sure the operations of their agents were successful, and so were willing to foot the bill when it came to supplying them with the right tools for the job. The more successful the team, the higher the danger involved with their later assignments, since they had proven they were capable enough to deal with the hard stuff. And the harder the job, the more impressive the tools. But the one thing he'd been hoping to find out by joining the organization still eluded him. The knowledge of how to summon Risen soldiers from thin air was a closely kept secret, apparently, though Aiden was hopeful that one day some task would pop up that required the Grimleal to share the knowledge.

As for now, judging by the bundle Cera was carrying through the door, they had their next job. And Aiden's quiet time was over.

* * *

"You hear the big news from across the ocean?" Borri asked as he and Aiden filed into the armory.

"I don't know why you're asking me." Aiden responded. "You know my answer is going to be no."

"As it turns out, the heir to the Ylissean throne is having a wedding soon. There's gonna be a city-wide festival and everything. Man, I wish I was there."

"I'm sure there is a team on the ground there already, Borri." Jered chimed in from one corner of the room. "If there's something to be done, they'll have everything under control."

"No, I mean I wish I was at the festival." Borri gushed. "When else in my life would I have the chance to attend some sort of fancy royal party all day? It sounds like a blast!" Jered just rolled his eyes.

"You'll get that chance sooner than you think." Cera walked in, laying their orders on the table.

"Oh please, don't encourage him." Jered interrupted. "Can we just get to the briefing?"

"I'm serious. We've had our eye on a high-ranking Valmese officer for some time now, but have lacked the means to get close to him. As it turns out, said officer is hosting a ball to celebrate the nation's victory against Chon'sin. And some of our informants managed to get invitations."

"Sounds like fun!" Borri grinned. "We go in, enjoy the party, and then I'm assuming we assassinate the guy?"

"Not quite." Cera shook her head. "Lady Aversa believes the individual could be quite useful. Our task is to convince him to work with the Grimleal- covertly, of course. To that end, she has given us a message to deliver. A simple invitation of our own, in response to the ones he was so kind to give us."

"And they needed a whole cell to be their glorified mail carriers?" Aiden asked. "Don't get me wrong, I'll do it. But what's the catch?"

"The catch is getting in. The event is going to be heavily guarded. And as far as the target knows, the Grimleal are still his enemies. If we're discovered, the situation will degrade very quickly. And we only have two invitations."

"Which means only half the team is getting in." Borri assumed. "I don't like those odds."

"We'll all be there, Borri." Cera clarified. "You and I will be posing as a pair of Valmese nobles there to swear fealty. Aiden and Jered will be disguised as our servants. To that end, we've been supplied with the proper attire." She held up one of the bundles of clothing and tossed it to Aiden. "The ball is in two days, and that's about how long it will take to get there. We'll discuss the rest of plan en route. Get packed and start heading out as soon as possible."

* * *

"I look ridiculous." Aiden lamented. Cera just laughed at his moaning. In truth, it wouldn't have been so bad if the sleeves weren't so puffy. Or if the armor plating that coated the gloves and boots was part of the rest of the uniform. The vest itself was actually very nice. But the outfit as a whole was just overbearing. They had split up upon leaving the base, and only just now had Aiden and Cera arrived at the designated meeting location. It was an old barn at the edge of town, empty for the moment.

"Apparently, this is how butlers dress in Valm." Cera told him. "But I wouldn't worry about it. Has anyone ever told you that you clean up very nicely?"

"That's easy for you to say. You're wearing a ball gown, not a frilly servant's outfit."

"It's not the outfit I'm admiring. This has to be the first time I've seen you without that ratty old traveling cloak and hood you always wear."

"I value my privacy, what can I say?" Aiden mumbled. "Besides, you're always wearing one of those ridiculous headpieces. Have I ever mentioned how glad I am that I don't have to wear one of those silly mesh outfits?"

"For now. Those uniforms are for Grimleal in Plegia and other desert regions where the lighter fabric helps keep them cool. If we ever get redeployed somewhere like that…"

"Then I'm keeping my old clothes on, heat be damned."

"And what a shame that is." Cera lamented.

"What?" Aiden asked, not sure he had heard her right. "What's that supposed to-?"

"There you guys are!" Borri charged into the barn. He paused for a moment, appraising Cera's, and then Aiden's uniforms. "You two look dapper."

"I told you: the outfit looks nice." Cera told Aiden, who just grunted. He still wasn't a fan.

Aiden noticed that Borri had already gotten into his disguise: a tailored dress uniform, similar to what many in the Valmese military would wear to formal occasions. It was distinct, however, in that it was dyed a subtle green, matching the color of Cera's gown.

"Ugh, I hate this color." Borri said. "Where'd we even get these, anyway?"

"A pair of nobles who were…sympathetic…to our cause. The same one who donated their invitations." Cera answered. Borri shrugged, and Aiden glimpsed the cover of a spell tome hidden under his jacket.

"What's that for?" Aiden asked. He knew Borri had been practicing, but he also knew that the archer preferred to use his bow and arrows.

"If things get violent, I'm going to need a weapon." Borri told him. "And a giant piece of wood on my back isn't exactly inconspicuous. Why, what are you carrying with you?"

"I, uh," Aiden reached towards his belt, where his remaining edge was still hanging, and slowly took it off, "hadn't thought of that." Unlike Borri, he wasn't proficient enough with magic to use it in combat reliably. And a servant with a sword, especially one of this variety, would be too noticeable.

"How fortunate that I did, then." Cera spoke up. She handed him a trio of small iron blades. "Throwing knives, for you and Jered. You can hide them in your boot or your sleeve, and they're sturdy enough to be used as melee weapons in a pinch. Will these do?" Aiden took the blades before experimentally tossing one into the air. He nodded in affirmation. Though the swordsmaster didn't have much faith in his knife-throwing abilities, he could use a blade, even a short one, in close quarters.

"Speaking of Jered, has anyone seen the twerp?" Borri asked.

"He's gone ahead." Cera answered. "We'll meet him there."

"Phew. For a second I thought he'd be right behind me, ready to blast my head off for that 'twerp' comment." Borri laughed. Aiden just stared at him in confusion. "Of course, I'm not the one who's stuck with him all night."

"Hold on a moment." Aiden grabbed his edge from the ground, handing the sheathed weapon to Borri. "If things get really bad, I'd prefer to have a real weapon. Any chance you can hold onto this for me? Pretend it's a war trophy from a battle in Chon'sin or something."

"Sure, I guess." Borri took the blade, looking it over. "You know, this actually looks like some fancy Chon'sin craftsmanship. That idea could work."

"That's because it is." Aiden replied. "There aren't many who can teach my fighting style outside of that country. It's where I trained, and where this came from. Be careful with it, please."

"You trained in Chon'sin?" Borri gawked. "Wow, this must be like coming home for you! Or, you know, it would be if Valm wasn't occupying it. Yikes."

"I'm assuming this won't cause any conflict, correct?" Cera asked.

"No, ma'am. My loyalty is with you." Aiden told her. In truth, he didn't see any conflict of interest. They were, after all, sabotaging Chon'sin's oppressors. He turned to Borri. "And did anyone ever teach you about tact?"

"Focus, both of you." Cera interrupted. "The ball's about to begin, and I don't want to be late."

* * *

"Good to see that you could finally show up." Jered greeted them. "They're opening the doors."

"Everyone, fall in." Cera told them. "Aiden and Jered: stay behind us, act like servants. But keep our flanks covered. Borri, we're supposed to be a couple. Keep that in mind."

"I gotcha." Borri nodded. He held out his hand, which Cera promptly took, before the pair proceeded towards the doorway. Aiden and Jered fell into step behind them.

"Ah, Sir. Madam." The greeter met them at the stairs leading to the main entrance. Behind him, an ornate mansion rose out of the countryside, windows lit up against the evening sky. "I wish you welcome. May I see your invitation?" Cera handed over a slip to the doorman, who examined it for a moment before nodding. "Everything seems to be in order. Welcome." Cera and Borri proceeded through the doors, with Aiden and Jered following a respectable distance behind them.

The interior of the mansion was even more well-furnished than the exterior. The room they were now in stretched along the width of the mansion, while the ceiling soared overhead. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating dozens of revelers who were taking advantage of the relative calm to converse. Stained-glass doors on the other wall hung open, leading to a courtyard that occupied the center of the mansion, where most of the actual festivities were being held. Curving stairwells flanked the doors, leading to the upper floors and a balcony that ringed the courtyard.

"Alright, what's the plan?" Borri quietly asked.

"We need to find the target, or at least somewhere to leave the message where it won't be seen by anyone else. Aiden, Jered. You cover the upper floors. Just remember your disguises; be discreet."

"And what will you be doing?" Aiden asked.

"We'll be blending in, doing what is expected of two nobles attending a ball. And if we happen to find the man we're looking for, then so much the better." Borri grinned, no doubt reflecting on how lucky he was to have the role that required partying. Then Aiden felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Let's get going, then." Jered told him, pointing at the stairway. "We've got a lot of ground to cover."

Aiden hung back and watched him go before following. Jered was a strange one. Borri had been frightened when they had first been introduced, and Aiden understood why.

Jered held a unique position in the Grimleal, one that was both respected and pitied. He was forever marked as someone with great potential, but also as a failure. As Borri had explained it to Aiden, it all had to do with Grima, and the god's resurrection. According to the Grimleal, Grima no longer had a physical form beyond bones scattered in the desert. Their faith had always held that, when Grima's return was nigh, a child would be born with Grima's brand, akin in some ways to the mark that appeared on descendants of the original Ylissean Exalt. This branded child would be Grima's vessel, forever tied to the god and, so it was said, favored by him. In fact, as Borri had said, such a child had been born a few years ago, elevating their family to incredibly high status. The fact that the child had disappeared only months later had drawn the ire of many, but others, the remaining family included, held that Grima still held them in his favor, and so they remained in power. Those who denied this knew that if a child with the mark was born to another family, it would truly be a sign from Grima that the ruling family had lied, and so they resorted to the techniques that their ancestors- and even the family in question- had used since the founding of the religion. Particularly strong or devout bloodlines were matched up, all with the intent of bearing children who could serve as Grima's host. This occurred even now, though there had not yet been another instance of a child with the brand being born. Jered was the result of one such union.

Children like Jered were born into the Grimleal, and even though none bore the mark, they were raised to become devout worshipers and devastating agents of Grima's will. Their advanced and intensive training, coupled with their generally high-status families and potent bloodlines, made them a class all their own both on the battlefield and in the complicated maze of Grimleal politics. But despite their potent abilities, many would always view them as failures, due to the simple fact that they were born without a brand. Whether it was perpetuated by random people on the street, their superiors, peers, family, or even themselves, this belittling was common enough that Borri, a simple soldier, had seen it frequently.

Aiden imagined such intense pressure could have been incredibly psychologically damaging for anyone trapped in that system. But he had never seen anything particularly strange in his interactions with Jered. The boy was blunt, annoying, and even occasionally terrifying, but other than that he was a normal, if skilled, Grimleal.

* * *

Jered watched Aiden from the corner of his eye as they ascended the staircase. The swordsman was young, inexperienced. Fortunately, he understood enough that he didn't make most jobs excessively hard for Jered. No, his inexperience wasn't what made Jered dislike him. It was the secrets Jered knew he kept. The Grimleal agent made it his business to know about others: his teammates, targets, everyone. Even the things they didn't want anyone to know. He even knew secrets Cera and Borri thought they kept only to themselves.

And yet, despite his best efforts, Aiden was an enigma. The swordsmaster was practically a non-entity, for all that Jered had uncovered. He'd found nothing on where Aiden had come from beyond what the man had said, nothing on prior experience or training, and nothing about any family. It was as if he had almost sprung into being fully-formed a year ago. In fact, if it hadn't been for the scattered recollections of a priest in a backwater town, Jered would have had no reason to believe Aiden had existed before his time in the Grimleal. It was infuriating.

"Yeesh." Aiden said, looking down into the courtyard. "They sure don't cut corners for these things."

"Of course not." Jered scoffed. "Just how much do you know about all this, anyway? Valmese society, politics, and events like these, I mean." The Grimleal agent figured that this was as good a time as any to gauge his partner's competency.

"Enough." Aiden said. "Much of the continent is in the hand of dukes and other minor lords, some of whom have allied themselves with more influential rulers. When Walhart came along, he essentially unified all of these minor and major lords into a single entity, whether through coercion, politics, or force. Now Walhart controls most of the continent. If I had to guess, this event was put on by someone looking to gain favor with their superiors."

"That's…actually a good summary of events." Jered replied. "Somewhat basic and outdated, but much more than I expected the average soldier to know."

"I trained in Chon'sin." Aiden replied quickly. "I picked things up."

"Of course." Jered replied, though he was beginning to suspect there was much more to this swordsman than even he had suspected. "You did, however, miss some crucial points." He walked over to the guardrail, looking out on the dancers below. Aiden leaned on the rail next to him.

"First of all, you need to understand the political climate we've entered. On the Ylissean continent, much of the land is taken up by just a handful of nations, such as Ylisse and Plegia. Here, however, there are dozens and dozens of smaller city-states, duchies, and kingdoms. The rivalries between these lands matches those on the Ylissean continent in vitriol, if not in size. Before Walhart came along, the rulers of these kingdoms would be at war almost constantly, trying to seize the lands and resources of their rivals, or at least defending their own borders. Even when there was peace, they would be constantly trying to outdo or impress their neighbors, throwing opulent balls and festivals where political alliances could be forged or broken."

"Walhart must have changed that." Aiden guessed.

"Not as much as you might think." Jered replied. "They may all be united under one banner, but they haven't changed their ways. The conflict just centers around impressing Walhart now. He gives out territory claimed from rivals or dissidents to loyal and successful supporters. Unlike most of the people here, however, the Conqueror respects action instead of political clout or brownnosing. His vassals now fight to see who can best fulfill his wishes and help him conquer the world. Whether he doesn't notice the infighting or encourages it to weed out the weak, I don't know. But the end result is an environment that is excessively hostile towards everyone but a select few of Walhart's chosen. This gathering is celebrating a military victory, so I'd imagine the host wants to get Walhart's attention or secure what favor they already have."

"I've always hated this sort of politics." Aiden shook his head. "It's all so self-serving."

"That's the way the world works." Jered told Aiden, almost disappointed by his ignorance. "Everyone is looking out for themselves. You need any advantage you can get to succeed. The Grimleal need Walhart defeated, and so we find advantages over him. Information on his troops, his weaknesses, faults in the alliance that he has built which we can exploit...our knowledge is our power."

Aiden didn't respond. Jered couldn't tell how he had reacted. But, they were here for a reason, so he let the matter go. As they walked along the balcony, Jered kept scanning his surroundings, looking all along the wall for any sign of an office or study where they might find the target. Many doors opened onto the courtyard, but Jered hadn't seen anything that could mark the room they wanted to find. Aiden, it appeared, was also on the lookout, carefully scrutinizing the lower floor from their vantage point.

As they walked, a guard surreptitiously patrolled along the balcony, passing by them unobtrusively. They were everywhere in the palace, but were very good at being discreet. Their armor was distinctively designed, featuring a heavy chestplate that was segmented around the abdomen, allowing for increased mobility. The rounded pauldrons and crested helmets of experienced Valmese cavalrymen completed the look. Each bore a tapered shield and either a sword or lance, sheathed for now but easily accessible. Though they currently lacked the horses that Walhart's army was famous for, they would still be formidable foes. Cera had been right to suggest a subtle approach.

Aiden came to a halt. Evidently something had caught his eye.

"Hey, is that who I think it is?" He asked, pointing to the crowd. Jered followed Aiden's finger to the crowd, scanning for what he had noticed. "Yeah, it is! Look, there's Cera and Borri!" Sure enough, the two were dancing in the center of the courtyard.

"Great, great." Jered brushed his childish comment off. "Now, can we actually try and accomplish our mission, please?"

"Yeah, of course. But…wow, look at her…them. They're the center of attention right now." Was that admiration in the swordsman's voice? It was true, to an extent. Borri and Cera moved with grace and precision on the floor, and they had caught more than a few approving gazes. But wasn't the whole point of the mission to remain unnoticed? And more importantly, Aiden's behavior was just sad.

"It's impressive enough." Jered admitted grudgingly. "Especially since she can hardly take a single step under normal circumstances."

"I beg your pardon?" Aiden stared at Jered, baffled. "You didn't drink any suspicious substances at the bar, right?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Jered asked, smirking at Aiden's confusion. "She's crippled. Her legs don't work. She's skilled enough in anima and healing magic to impress even me, but that's not natural talent. Cera is practicing almost every moment of every day, and especially at times like this. She uses wind magic to mimic normal movement. She does the same thing in combat, but on a larger scale. Surely you didn't think all those aerial acrobatics were natural?" Aiden shook his head. Jered continued. "The poor thing would be useless if it weren't for her magic, but you wouldn't know it from how she acts. She's not the kind to accept help from anyone."

"Whoa, hold on." Aiden frowned. "I mean, that's interesting and everything, but I get the impression that this isn't the sort of thing Cera just wants anyone spreading around. If she hasn't seen fit to tell me, then it's none of my business."

"And here I thought you'd be thanking me." Jered sighed. "You've still got a lot to learn about how our profession works. When I tell you that information and knowledge are our strength, I mean it literally. Not only do we need information to be successful, but knowledge is the core of dark magic. To use dark magic effectively, you need to know your enemy. Even simple curses need things like locks of hair to work effectively, a physical manifestation of the knowledge that the spell requires. And so someone in our line of work takes every scrap of information they can find, no matter the source and no matter who might feel uncomfortable about it. We're soldiers, we can't afford to be squeamish."

"Maybe that's true most of the time, but I don't exactly need to figure out how to kill my teammates!" Aiden quietly scolded.

"I'm not so sure anymore." Jered shot back. "I know you're hiding something. What are you-?"

"If I may have everyone's attention?" A voice rang out, magically amplified. Two motes of light winked into existence, hovering above the balcony and casting light onto the individual who was standing there, gazing down on the courtyard. They honestly cast an unimpressive figure, despite their best efforts. Their skin was unnaturally pale, in contrast with their black, bowl cut hair. Their girth amply filled out the ornate crimson robes they wore, and the multiple golden rings and bands they wore shone only marginally brighter than the oily sheen that coated their hair. But for the way the audience reacted, Jered might have assumed that this figure was magnificent. Every person in earshot turned and gave their full attention to the man. There was barely a whisper in the ensuing silence, while the guards flanking the speaker stood obediently still. And then, they spoke.

* * *

"Ah, yes. Thank you all for coming to my little party. It's such a delight to have you all here! I hope everyone is enjoying themselves." Borri had been enjoying himself, but now his mirth was fading. The food had been good, and the dancing was fun, but now this windbag was here to interrupt his good time.

"I, certainly, am having a good time. And how can I not be, on such a momentous occasion? The Conqueror's forces, brought to a grand triumph over Chon'sin's finest! And as you might know by now, I myself had a hand in it all!" The strange man on the balcony laughed to himself, a strange and disturbing sound.

"But, of course, tonight isn't just about Excellus." He pointed to himself when he said it. Strange that he apparently referred to himself in the third person. "Tonight is about everyone! And to be more specific, tonight is about our brand new ally…" Excellus gestured towards one end of the balcony, and one of the floating lights whisked over, illuminating another figure. This one was dressed in the style of a Chon'sin swordsmaster, and in fact his outfit looked like a much more refined version of Aiden's. His gray hair, however, was framed by a red mask sporting two small horns, and he bore himself with a graceful, noble bearing. He stood in stark contrast to Excellus, but he acted with deference to the speaker.

"May I present to you, the king of Chon'sin and Walhart's newest general, Yen'fay!" Excellus cheered, though Borri could tell there was some malice hidden in his words. "This man has proven himself on the battlefield, after having challenged none other than the Conqueror himself! Of course, no man I know of could hope to stand against Walhart, but Yen'fay performed admirably and stood his ground even after two blows from our lord's axe!" There was scattered applause and cheering from the crowd. Borri had heard that few men could even withstand a single strike from Walhart, surviving more than two must have been quite the feat.

"I find it quite strange, though," Excellus continued, "that the noble and regal ruler of Chon'sin would bend the knee to anyone… So why did you do it, Yen'fay?" Borri noticed that the grin on Excellus' face was more menacing than cheerful, though he did his best to hide it. For a moment, Yen'fay stood still. Then, without moving, he spoke.

"I truly believe that serving under the Conqueror is the best way to ensure the survival and success of my people. His vision of a unified world is admirable, and I have pledged my life to him in order to see it through."

"Of course!" Excellus laughed. "Then you will no doubt find yourself in good company, general." He continued to speak, this time towards the audience, though it seemed to Borri that most of his words now were just formal greetings and idle chatter, so the archer stopped paying attention. Then Cera idly nudged him.

"That's our man." She whispered.

"Who, that Yen'fay fellow?" Borri asked.

"No, Excellus." Cera clarified. "He may not look like it, but he is very dangerous. He's one of Walhart's generals, and supposedly the one who provides tactical advice for the entire army. If we could bring him over to our side, he might prove to be an incredibly useful tool."

"Ugh, he sure isn't the friendliest looking person. What now?"

"We get up to the balcony, and see where he goes. Then, we follow."

* * *

Aiden followed closely behind Jered as they walked, but his head was spinning. Yen'fay, and this Excellus bastard…their presence severely complicated things. But he had a mission. They could wait. Aiden just hoped he didn't encounter Yen'fay alone. He didn't know himself what would happen if he did.

The pair of would-be butlers walked through one of the doorways lining the balcony, stepping into a long interior hallway. Even this room hadn't escaped the revelers, some of whom lined the walls. Two in particular took notice of their arrival.

"Jered, Aiden." Cera greeted them quietly. Apparently, she'd had the same idea, traveling to the upper level in order to follow Excellus. Borri was right behind her.

"You're here." Jered greeted them. "Good." There was no hint of the emotion he'd shown earlier.

"Just in time, too." Borri added. "Looks like the windbag is wrapping up. Everyone act natural." Almost instantly, Cera turned to Borri and began to quietly chat with him. Jered stalked over to a table that had been stocked with refreshments. Aiden followed. The Grimleal agent grabbed a plate loaded with small pastries while Aiden took a tea tray. Then, they began to walk back towards their comrades.

Their slow walk was interrupted by Excellus himself, striding into the room just ahead of them, face plastered with a self-indulgent smile. He turned away and began walking towards the opposite end of the hall, past Borri and Cera. They waited until he was a fair distance down the hall before slowly following him. Jered and Aiden simply kept up their slow walk, looking to all the world simply like a pair of servants attending to their masters.

Excellus, arriving at the end of the hall, opened a rather unassuming doorway and proceeded inside. Cera and Borri slowly approached, eventually coming to rest against the wall next to the door. Jered and Aiden came to a halt on the opposite side of the doorway. Subtly, Cera held up her hand, indicating that they had to stop. Then, she moved her other hand, forming a pattern Aiden didn't recognize. His question was answered when, moments later, magical runes swirled around her palm and the ambient temperature in the hall dropped several degrees.

The revelers in the hallway, either too drunk or too self-absorbed to notice the strange nature of the drop in temperature, nevertheless decided to retreat towards warmer parts of the mansion. When the room was clear of anyone who wasn't Grimleal, Cera nodded. Borri grabbed the door and eased it open, Allowing Cera to pass through. He then entered himself, followed by Aiden and Jered.

The interior of the room was ornate, even more so than the rest of the mansion, decorated with tapestries and trophies celebrating all manner of occasions. On the far wall, a fireplace crackled. In the center of it all was Excellus, seated at his desk and currently rather annoyed.

"What is the meaning of this?" He snarled. "Since when is it appropriate to just barge into the host's office? If you don't leave now, I'll call the…Wait, I don't recall ever meeting you, let alone inviting you to my home. Who are you?"

"Pardon us, General Excellus. I just need a moment of your time." Cera explained, acting every bit as noble and dignified as her disguise. "We represent a party who has a keen interest in your particular talents. As such, we would like to offer you an invitation of our own. You might find it profitable for you to accept." She handed over the envelope. Excellus looked at it for a moment, clearly intrigued. Then came a knock on the door. It swung open, revealing the expressionless demeanor of General Yen'fay.

"General Excellus, I would like to discuss-" He stopped, noticing the four strangers. "Is this, perhaps, a bad time?"

"Oh, not at all." Excellus answered. "In fact, I was just about to explain to these spies that no one double-crosses Walhart and lives. Would you be a dear and take care of them for me?" He sat back in his chair, grinning. There was a moment of silence.

Aiden threw the tray he was holding at Yen'fay. The swordsmaster, caught off guard, was still able to easily avoid the improvised projectile. However, he was less lucky in avoiding the body that came after, as Aiden tackled him out of the doorway. Cera and the others cleared the room in full sprint while Aiden recovered, taking off after them. A pair of guards charged into the hallway, likely summoned by some form of magical alarm. Jered threw a knife at one of them before pulling out his spellbook and launching a crippling ball of dark energy at the other. The first guard caught the knife on his shield; the second guard crumbled to the floor. Borri rectified the situation by sweeping the first guard's legs out from under him as he slid past, allowing the others to get through the newly cleared hallway and out onto the balcony.

They emerged into a courtyard already engulfed in chaos. Armed guardsmen charged up the main stairwells trying to reach them while panicked partygoers stumbled over themselves trying to leave. Another group of guardsmen that had been patrolling the upper levels was already approaching from Aiden's right. Cera solved the problem by magically blowing a hole through the balcony between them and the guards, separating them. Then, they ran the other way.

"Borri!" Aiden called out. Borri slowed for just long enough to toss Aiden his blade. Aiden fumbled to attach it to his belt while keeping up his momentum, and as a result almost didn't stop in time to avoid running into the trio of guards that had climbed up from the courtyard below. Fortunately, Borri grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and heaved him back as Cera used her potent fire magic to blow another hole through the balcony.

For a moment, Aiden thought that Cera had inadvertently trapped them up here, since the only stairs were on the opposite side of the courtyard, near the entrance door. Then he saw Jered and Borri heaving themselves over the railing and understood. The swordsmaster followed suit, launching himself off the balcony. He rolled as he hit the ground, but it struck him that the impact was much softer than he had expected. When he looked up and saw Cera surrounded by glowing runes, he understood. She then propelled herself off the edge with the same magic she had used on them, gliding to the ground.

But they were hardly alone. It seemed like every soldier in the mansion was converging here. Four of them blocked the doors, and it would only be a matter of time before their comrades upstairs joined them.

"Jeez, they're just coming out of the woodwork!" Borri exclaimed as soldiers encircled them.

"More of them, on the roof!" Jered informed them. Indeed, it seemed a pair of archers had set themselves up high above. However, they didn't fire. In fact, though the guards encircled them, none made a move.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave." Yen'fay called out, before leaping off the balcony and joining them in the courtyard. He turned to face them, sword already drawn. It was a wicked-looking blade, golden and covered with six forward-facing, fang-like projections.

"I warn you, we are no lowly spies." Cera growled, her tone far more menacing and stiff than Aiden was used to. "Defying us would be akin to defying fate itself. Do so at your own peril, but come no closer to my men unless you have a death wish."

"Fie, what little you know." The Valmese general responded. "Surrender now, or it will be your own mortality that you face." Aiden already knew that surrender wasn't an option. But he surprised even himself with his response.

"Cera, I'll handle him." He said to her. For some reason, she nodded. Aiden drew his blade, leveling it at the king of Chon'sin. Then, for good measure, he slid a throwing knife down from his sleeve into his empty hand. It wouldn't be the same as the two matched blades that he was used to, but it would have to do.

"You would challenge me?" Yen'fay asked. Aiden nodded. "You bear yourself like a Chon'sin warrior. Let us see if you can fight like one."

Borri struck first, lightning arcing out of his palm to strike one of the guards. Then everything happened all at once. Spells were cast, the ground itself bubbled with fire and dark magic. A gust of wind magic pushed one of the archers off his perch, into the courtyard. Borri retrieved the fallen guard's bow and went to work, launching arrow after stolen arrow towards the enemy guarding the doors. All the while, the two swordsmasters dueled.

Yen'fay had been the first to react when Borri had attacked. He had thrown his blade like a javelin towards Aiden. Aiden slipped underneath the surprisingly accurate strike, charging at the seemingly defenseless swordsmaster. Yen'fay, however, had anticipated this, and leapt over Aiden, landing and grabbing his blade all in a single motion. By the time Aiden had turned around, he had already been put on the defensive, Yen'fay's strange blade thrusting towards anything he left even slightly exposed. With two weapons, Aiden had the ability to block most of Yen'fay's attacks, but wasn't able to put as much strength behind his actions as his foe. Neither blademaster gave an inch, though Aiden knew he was outmatched. Any mistake he made could mean his death. But for once, he didn't make a mistake.

Jered fought with calculated cruelty, alternating between his knives and his spell tome to strike the enemy where they were least prepared. Borri put his skill with a bow to good use, cutting down the other archer and keeping much of the enemy pinned behind cover. Cera, meanwhile, put her prodigious magical training to use, casting bloganone in groups of enemies and keeping them from rallying together. Before long, the three of them had almost shattered the ranks of the guardsmen.

"You're just letting him take on the general alone?" Borri asked Cera.

"It seemed like a personal issue!" Cera answered. "I think he can handle himself!"

"Oh, you honestly think he has some sort of grudge against the king of Chon'sin!?"

"Stranger things have happened in our line of work. Besides, we have more pressing issues!" She concluded, narrowly avoiding a blow from a foolhardy guard, who soon found himself knocked to the floor by a magical gale.

Aiden slashed at Yen'fay's throat with his knife, then swung low with his edge, ducking under Yen'fay's counterattack and trying to hit one of his legs. The more experienced swordsmaster was able to leap backwards into the air, landing on his feet outside of the reach of Aiden's sword. Aiden charged at him, closing the distance. Yen'fay let Aiden come, then deftly sidestepped Aiden's first strike, in turn slashing at Aiden's head. Aiden crossed his blade and knife in front of him, blocking the attack, leaving the two straining for leverage. Yen'fay knew how to wield two blades just as well as one, but Aiden was relying on just that. When the two broke away from each other, Aiden did something that he couldn't have done with two full-sized blades, and hurled the throwing knife at close range. The blade snuck through Yen'fay's guard, cutting a narrow gash across the general's side. Thus distracted and wounded, he didn't react in time when Aiden kneed him in the gut, bending him over. Almost out of nowhere, a gust of magical wind knocked the general down.

"You. Do. Not. Touch my men." Cera growled, fire in her eyes. The remains of the mansion guard lay at her feet, wounded or unconscious. Borri and Jered had already taken off towards the entrance doors. She motioned towards them. Aiden nodded, and they took off, leaving the courtyard and portions of the mansion in ruin behind them.

* * *

Borri chuckled to himself as he changed back into his normal outfit. When he had heard there would be a party, he had expected to have fun, but nothing like this!

They'd essentially disappeared into the crowd of fleeing noblemen that had awaited them beyond the mansion walls, though Borri doubted that Excellus even had the manpower at this point to mount a search. The four Grimleal were to meet back at the barn when they were sure they weren't being followed.

It was a shame that it was all over, honestly. Borri had honestly enjoyed himself for the first time in a while. It hadn't been the food or the dancing that had cheered him up, but the honest-to-Grima brawl that the night had ended with. Talk about ending the night with a bang!

At his heart, Borri was a simple guy. He liked to have fun. And while plenty of things he did as a Grimleal agent were fun, not much compared with that sort of fight. The rush of combat, the heady mixture of fear and excitement, the knowledge that it was kill or be killed…it all came together in a few blissful moments. And seeing a worthy opponent fall, knowing that he had come out on top and beat the odds, defied his death if just for a few minutes longer? That thrill was what he lived for. That was why he had joined the Grimleal. And so far, he had not been disappointed.

* * *

"Alright, what in Grima's name was that?"

"What?" Aiden asked, talking through a crack in the barn wall. Inside, Cera was getting rid of the ball gown. Aiden had already taken his turn and ditched his butler outfit, though he had kept the remaining knife. It could be useful.

"That fight with the Chon'sin general?"

"Oh, yeah." Aiden grinned sheepishly, though he knew Cera couldn't see. "I, uh, just figured that as a trained swordsmaster, I could predict his movements and counter them easier than anyone else in the group."

"From my perspective, it seemed like there was something between you two." Cera told him. "It was almost like you had a history."

"What?" Aiden scoffed. Damn it, he thought he had kept his composure. How had she picked up on anything that could have given him away? "Of course not. What could I possibly have against that man? I can honestly say that I have never met the king of Chon'sin before today."

"Alright, sure." Cera brushed him off. "I believe you. Besides, I'm just about done here. Let's wait for the others and head home." The door slid open, and she stepped out. As she did, her foot caught on the edge of the door, and she tripped.

Aiden reacted at lightning speed, still brimming with adrenaline, leaping in front of and catching his falling team leader.

"Whoa!" She called out, not in shock from the fall but rather Aiden's actions. "I'm fine, you can back off." Aiden let go, suddenly aware of what he was doing. That had been stupid, and unnecessary. "I could have caught myself, you know. What was that all about?" Cera asked, echoing his own thoughts.

Unconsciously, he looked down towards her feet, which were standing on- no, not standing, hovering ever so slightly above- hard soil of the barn floor. She noticed.

"Jered told you, didn't he?" Cera asked, voice suddenly as cold and dangerous as it had been when she spoke to the Valmese. Aiden's silence was answer enough. "That bastard. Always worming through other people's business. We'll talk about it back at the base. Send the others there when they arrive." With that, she walked off into the night.

Aiden groaned to himself. For once, he found himself wishing he hadn't attended a party.

* * *

Excellus stared down at the damage that had been dealt to his precious estate. Most of his guard were incapacitated, some were dead, and even General Yen'fay had been injured. It would take plenty of coin to repair the damage and replace staff, but coin he had plenty of. As for those four strangers, and the message that even now resided in his pocket…surprisingly, Excellus smiled. Of course, outwardly he would act enraged and indignant. He might even be able to pin the blame for all of this on Yen'fay or on Chon'sin rebels. But, thanks to the comments he had overheard their leader make, Excellus had a sneaking suspicion as to their true identity. And anyone who could best his men and Yen'fay in combat was certainly deserving of Excellus' attention.

Yes, he would meet with this Lady Aversa, and he would hear out whatever offer she and her powerful friends had for him.

* * *

_And that is that. Author's notes will be up...probably tomorrow. It's late where I am, sorry. So just be patient, please._

_And if it wasn't impressed on you enough by the beginning of the chapter (and all my previous mentions of it) PLEASE REVIEW! I don't like living in an echo chamber. If you like my work or think I could improve, let me know! And also, thanks to anyone who decided to follow this story between now and the last chapter. This one is for you!_


	14. Chapter 14: Confrontation

_Hey guys. As it turns out, I'm pretty shit. I could say that this chapter wasn't out earlier due to life deciding that I had a million other things to do, and I'd be partially right, but the truth is I was also just lazy at some points. Then again, now that I think about it, I'm not sure whether this chapter was late or the last few were early. _

_To be honest, I've started to understand just how much of a role inspiration plays in something like this (and if you want to skip straight to the story, go ahead. I'm going to ramble for a few seconds here). Inspiration isn't just the thing that burst upon you and gives you the idea for something. It's what keeps you working at it. And it comes from strange places. A song, or a film, or a good book have all convinced me to get back to writing at one point or another. But you know what I find the most inspiring? Knowing that there are people out there who want to know what happens next. The idea of having an audience is, to me, just what I need to kick myself in the pants, so I don't let you down. That's why I really wish more people would leave reviews, and why I'm always pleasantly surprised by followers. So there you go: If you want me to write quicker, then I'll be doing my best no matter what. But a review or two might help._

* * *

_THUNK!_

The sound of something heavy hitting the ground, along with the clatter of a great deal of metal that accompanied it, drew Cainne's attention away from her book. If Kellam had snuck up on her again…but no, the room was empty except for her. In fact, the main room of the Shepherd's barracks looked almost too orderly. Weapon racks lined the halls along with crates of supplies, while pieces of armor, trophies, and various oddities filled the room, but nothing was out of place. Even the log on the carpet had been there for weeks now, being used to help prop up one of the table legs that was a bit too short. When the Shepherds had been here, it had taken all of them to keep this place in order, but for now it felt…empty. There were certainly still Shepherds in Ylisstol, but a fair number had taken up other lodgings. And even those that hadn't weren't here at the moment.

No, whatever had made that sound had been outside. Cainne stood up, sighing. If Martin had set up another inane trap, she was going to kick him. There was nothing to be seen as she stepped outside, but there was plenty to be heard. Her heightened hearing was able to pick up the sounds of a struggle. Slowly, she peered around the wall, almost gasping when she did.

Sir Frederick was on the ground, pinned. Over him stood a great black figure with glowing red eyes and…long, floppy ears. A creature that Frederick was petting.

"I've never noticed how soft and beautiful your fur is." Frederick marveled, seemingly entranced.

"Good. All cured." Panne, for Cainne was able to recognize her voice, spoke.

"Yes, yes, of course. No more fear for... Oh, look at these floppy ears!" Frederick practically gushed, a surprising display of affection for a man usually so stern. "They're so cute!" Cainne heard a gasp of pain, and then Panne stood in front of the knight, caressing her ear.

"Do not yank my ears, man-spawn." She growled. It was at this point that the ridiculous nature of the situation overcame Cainne, and she was barely able to suppress a laugh. It was not enough to escape Panne's notice, however.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" Panne called out, face already reddening. Cainne stepped out into view, hands held in front of her.

"Sorry." She apologized. "I was just investigating the strange sounds that were emanating from over here. I'll just…leave you two alone."

"Yes, well. As you can see, we were just…well…" Panne paused, for some reason unable to speak.

"If I may speak?" Frderick interjected, smoothly regaining his footing. "Panne was merely doing me a favor. For many years, I have held onto an irrational fear of beasts. Panne was kind enough to help me in my efforts to overcome my fears, though it seemed that we eventually reached an impasse. She ascertained that the best way to help me would be to force me to face my terrors in the flesh, up close and personal- hence the reason why you found her pinning me to the ground." Even now, he spoke calmly and certainly.

"Yes, of course," Cainne nodded. "It seems to have worked."

"Indeed." Frederick confirmed. "In fact, if I may ask, do all Taguel share such pleasantly soft fur?" Cainne, taken aback, stared at him wordlessly.

"What Frederick must intend to say," Panne clarified. "Is that he has overcome his fear of us. As such, it would be unnecessary for word of any of this to go beyond the three of us, correct?" Panne averted her gaze, staring intently at the ground. Was she actually embarrassed?

"Don't worry." Cainne reassured them. "As far as I'm aware, all I saw was two of my comrades helping each other train." Then, intensely aware of the uncomfortable silence that followed, she walked away.

Martin caught up with her as she walked towards Ylisstol proper, struggling to maintain his composure.

"You may have promised them you wouldn't say anything, but I am under no such compulsion." He whispered conspiratorially.

"You saw?" Cainne asked.

"You know, the barracks does have windows…" Martin gave her a sidelong glance.

"Alright, fine." She replied. "But don't go telling anyone. They're a cute couple."

"Them and everyone else in the Shepherds." Martin added. "Apparently, the most surefire way to find love is to join a state-sponsored militia…who would have guessed?"

"Really?" Cainne asked.

"Well, not everyone." Martin clarified. "But there are a few who have already traded rings, while a whole bunch of others just haven't realized that it'll happen to them too, like Panne and Frederick there."

"I hadn't noticed." Cainne responded.

"You had to know this was coming." Martom looked at her quizzically.

"Yes, I did." Cainne told him. "But it seems strange that this is all happening so quickly."

"It's funny how the emotional extremes of warfare can influence the ways you look at your comrades in arms." Martin mused. "I'd say they've all come to appreciate what they have a bit more, or that they have a better idea of what they want to do with their lives before they kick the bucket."

"Which begs the question," Cainne began with a sly smile, "Has someone caught your eye? You experienced all the same 'emotional extremes' they did."

"Ah, but I was trained in the ways of warfare almost since birth." Martin countered. Then, more seriously, he added, "All four of us knew what we were getting into when we joined the Shepherds, really. Combat holds no mysteries for us."

"I suppose that's true." Cainne replied with a shrug. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Right, how silly of me. After all, you certainly would have no qualms divulging personal secrets if I were to ask you the same." Martin replied with a grin.

"Well, you see, I-" Cainne stammered in response.

"Besides, you know me." Martin cut her off mercifully. "I'm not that kind of guy. Something like that would never work out for me."

"Whatever you say, Martin." Cainne shook her head. "What are you doing out here at the barracks, anyway? I thought you were going to be discussing tactics with Robin."

"I'm headed there now." Martin explained. "I'm just picking up some mail." He brandished the parchment.

"And?" Cainne asked, curious.

"I dunno. Haven't looked at it." With that, Martin unfolded the letter and started to read as they walked.

Cainne chuckled to herself. "Who do you even know that would be sending you mail...what?" she trailed off as Martin stopped and she had to turn to address him. The grin had fallen from his face along with much of its color. He gripped the paper tightly.

"Cainne, pack some supplies and help me find the others." Martin's voice trembled. "We need to go to Valm."

* * *

"Boy, I sure hope this isn't some thinly veiled attempt at a surprise party to celebrate my graduation from basic training." Shione laughed to himself as he entered the barracks. "Because it'd just be sad if we needed to celebrate the fact that I have once again proven my competence in flying." Then he noticed Cainne and Martin's somber faces. He groaned. "Why can't we ever have a nice, happy meeting for once?"

"Because our lives are a never-ending downwards spiral of increasingly dire situations." Lyta answered, seeming to appear out of nowhere. Shione had almost gotten used to her ability to fade in and out of view at will.

"Yikes, why are you in such a bad mood?" Shione asked. "It can't be all that bad."

"Unfortunately, it might just be." Cainne told him. Shione didn't like the sound of that. "Martin, tell them what you told me."

"Alright, here it goes." The tactician began, standing up off the crate he had been perched on. "I've got a friend down in Plegia who I asked to keep an eye on the situation there."

"Wait, you know a spy?" Shione asked.

"Funnily enough, no." Martin answered. "They're not a spy. Just a scholar researching some of the magical texts found there. But they picked up a few tricks while…obtaining some of these tomes from their less than reputable owners, and you don't need training to pay bribes. The point is, they've been keeping me informed while they're studying in Altea."

"Altea?" Lyta asked. "Sounds familiar, for some reason."

"I'm not surprised." Cainne told her. "Supposedly, Altea was the birthplace of the Hero King himself. Without them, there'd be no Ylisse."

"Which makes it all the more ironic that the city is just barely on the Plegian side of the border." Martin explained. "Once upon a time, Altea was an island nation. But a lot of the inland seas in this region apparently dried up near a thousand years ago, and Altea suddenly had one border facing the ocean and three that were landlocked. Plegia swooped in and sort of just…consumed the nation. Now all that's left is one major port that still bears the name."

"It's not quite as depressing as Martin makes it sound." Cainne added. "The city has been taking full advantage of their status as the birthplace of a legend, and from all accounts it's quite the thriving port. They're one of the best stops for sea trade on the west coast south of Port Ferox, and the government has always had some degree of autonomy as a result."

"They've certainly got good libraries, if my friend has anything to say about it." Martin conceded. "But their days of freedom are numbered, it seems. Apparently, one of the more religious factions that's been vying for the throne swooped into the city a few weeks ago and started occupying it. From what I've heard, it's been entirely nonviolent, but our old friends in the black robes are now on every street corner there."

"Grimleal in the home of the Hero King." Shione laughed sourly. "How ironic."

"So my friend started to keep a close eye on proceedings. They started building ships, lots of them. Now that's to be expected, they are at war, although I fail to see how ships will be useful in the desert. But one day, the docks were entirely evacuated. No ships came in, and only one vessel, along with escorts, went out. Now that's pretty unusual for a city that lives on trade, and the fact that the only ones on the docks that day were Grimleal was pretty suspicious."

"They had something, or maybe someone, on those ships." Lyta guessed.

"That's what my friend thought. He slipped a few coins to a friendly dock master the next day. Coins, by the way, that I'm going to be reimbursing him for. But it was worth it. He got a copy of the manifest for one of the vessels. The one thing to sail out of port was essentially a Grimleal treasure ship, full of relics and oddities bound for somewhere across the ocean. I got mailed a copy of the manifest, in case I was interested." Martin took out a page of the letter, and handed it to Lyta. "Tell me what you see." Lyta briefly scanned the page, her head moving slightly from side to side, and then she stopped. Wordlessly, she passed it to Shione.

It didn't take long for him to find it either. "Oh, shit."

"I'm assuming you found it." Martin said. "30 ruin tomes, black with gold binding, white embroidery. And then one other tome, pure white, gold binding, plain cover."

"Our book." Cainne stated.

"We can't be sure," Martin replied. "But I don't know any other spell tomes that are like that one."

"Gods, if the Grimleal have that tome…" Shione trailed off.

"That would mean bad things." Lyta finished the thought. "Very bad things."

"To be fair, it might not be the same tome." Martin cautioned. "Or, if it is, they might not know what it does."

"I'm not willing to take that risk." Cainne spoke up. "Because if it is the same tome, then the Grimleal now have a very powerful tool at their disposal."

"Not to mention our way home." Lyta added.

"Hell, they might even have Aiden." Shione realized. "I mean, we thought he was the one who took it at first."

"Then the matter is settled." Martin finished. "Anything leaving from Altea was probably headed towards Valm, but we don't know exactly where. So Altea will be our first stop. Everyone, start packing. And keep in mind that we'll probably be on another continent by the time all is said and done."

* * *

Kosh turned the key once, then twice, and was met with the gratifying sound of a click as the door locked. As usual, he barely noticed the stink of rancid fish, as accustomed to it as he was. But just as he had every day of his adult life, he still complained to himself about it. And just as he did every night, he looked at the glimmering skyline of Altea and smiled. The city he called home had been likened to a jewel by storm-tossed or weary sailors, and Kosh was of the opinion that she truly deserved the title.

The businesses that lined the docks directly to the east were aglow even this late at night, owners all too happy to profit off sailors disembarking from late-arriving ships. The broad, inviting streets eventually gave way to the city center and the residential districts that flanked it to the north and south. Even further to the east were the gleaming spires and magnificent great hall of the palace. Even though it wasn't visible from his angle, Kosh knew that the palace lay in the center of a lake, accessible only by a bridge on the southern shore. Finally, the eastern border of the city was marked by the walled fortress that surrounded the military district. According to legend, ocean waters had once crashed against its walls, but they now faced grassy plains that would eventually give way to the deserts Plegia was known for.

Kosh knew the city like the back of his hand, for he had lived here all his life. His family had been here for as long as anyone could remember, and he had no plans to leave the city yet. He was an Altean through and through, and he took pride in this fact.

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the skyline and started the long march home, just as he always did. The wary glances he cast over his shoulder as he walked down familiar streets were new, though. He didn't fear pickpockets or thugs, they had always given the dockmaster a respectful distance, just as he had kept from them. What he feared were black robes and dark words.

The Grimleal had already been in the city for a few weeks, but their presence was barely felt. Whispers and gossip spread like wildfire, but so few actually had an inkling of what their intent was here. As for Kosh himself, he only really knew a bit more than most.

He was aware, like most, that they represented the dominant religion of Plegia, though it had never really taken hold in the city. There had been churches here, but they had seemed innocent enough.

He knew that they were constructing ships with the aid of the city's many piers and wharfs, his own modest dock included.

And he knew that they were bad news.

But most in the city let them be, all too aware of the power they held. Though there were rumors that they whispered into the mayor's ear, the fact that he still sat in power and the Temple Guard patrolled the streets was enough to keep most citizens satisfied. Kosh, on the other hand, had dealt with them directly. His dock was unassuming but well-respected, qualities that had apparently convinced the Grimleal that he would be useful. They had approached him with a large sum of gold, a payment to ensure that he and his crew stayed away from the office for a day.

He had taken the gold, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let them go unsupervised. He knew his dock better than anyone, so it had been a simple matter to keep an eye on them from afar without being seen. When a stranger had approached him and asked if he knew the owner of the dock, he had been wary. When the stranger had offered gold for the exact same information he himself had wanted, he had found himself much more willing to listen. After a brief chat and plenty of assurances that this wasn't a trap, Kosh had agreed. Kosh gave the stranger his keys, and an hour later, he'd been awarded with some coins and, more importantly, knowledge of what the Grimleal had wanted with his dock for the day. According to the stranger, the Grimleal overseeing his office had simply fallen asleep, and it had been a simple matter to copy down the desired information without being seen.

But Kosh was still wary. Though he knew what the Grimleal were, the rumors of what they could do had gotten to him. Though the streets were lit, even the brightest lanterns cast long shadows. And the dock master had heard too many stories about knives in the dark and evil incantations.

As he turned the corner on the street that he called home, a young woman fell into step beside him.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for someone who lives here. Goes by the name of Kosh."

"Who's askin'?" Kosh replied, on edge.

"An interested party." The woman responded. "A mutual acquaintance told me he lived around here."

"I've got no idea what yer talkin' about." Kosh told her warily. He hadn't meant to give away anything, but he must have, judging by the way she looked at him. She knew. Kosh prepared to run or fight, whichever became necessary.

"Perhaps this will jog your memory." She handed him a small bag, and Kosh heard the distinct sound of coins jingling together. "Courtesy of the Shepherds." That got the dock master's attention.

"The Shepherds? As in, _those_ Shepherds? The Ylisseans?" When she nodded, Kosh scanned the street for observers, and then turned to face her. "We should get off the street. Follow me."

He walked into his house, the woman close behind. He spent the next five minutes checking every doorway and window to make sure no one was outside, closing and locking all entries to his home. When he was sure there was no one else in his home, he finally sat down, eying the stranger.

"Now…what is it ye want?" He asked.

"Your dock hosted a ship recently, one of the only ships to leave the dock that day. You gave my friend a copy of the manifest." She stated, matter-of-factly. "I just need to know where it was headed."

"What you're asking…is impossible." Kosh told her plainly as he made to stand, walking towards his kitchen. "This city is occupied by Plegian troops, and gettin' that information, let alone givin' it to agents of another nation, would be treason for a citizen of Plegia." Then he started writing.

"But a citizen of Altea, on the other hand…well, that'd be a different matter." He handed the woman a small sheet of paper. "As it stands, I'm sorry, I can't help ye."

"Ylisse thanks you."

"I ain't doin' it for Ylisse. And I ain't doin' it for the gold, either." Kosh told her, shaking his head. "Altea has history. The city deserves more than what she's gettin' right now. This was the birthplace of the Hero King himself, and I think he'd be disappointed to see us being crushed under the boot of some demon-worshipping cultists. If you Shepherds can stop them, then maybe I won't regret the colossal risk I'm takin' right now."

* * *

"…And at this point, there must have been three of them. Three Risen, all just standing there, jaws hanging open as I hover just out of their reach." Shione laughed. "We made them look even more brainless than they usually are. I mean, sure, we had to descend and actually engage them eventually, but it was surprisingly fun. At one point, though, it sounded like Anem was laughing. I swear, that pegasus has a wicked mean streak."

"Then I imagine she's going to be livid at you for leaving her behind." Cainne joked. Shione just grimaced.

"Oh yeah, I'm not looking forward to that." Shione said. "If I'm unlucky, she may never let me fly her again…but it had to be done. Someone with a pegasus in Plegian territory would draw too much attention."

"And yet, you still brought a horse." Cainne countered. "Can't stay out of the saddle for a moment, can you?"

Of course, Cainne knew that wasn't the only reason Shione had a horse. They'd all rode to the coast on horseback. The steeds that had brought them to Altea were the exact ones they had liberated from the Risen over a year ago, albeit much healthier after a long stay in Ylissean stables. But Shione had been the only one to take his on board the ship as they crossed the ocean.

"You know me." Shione admitted. "I happen to enjoy mounted combat. It's far more refined than squabbling in the dirt like you all." He added, adopting his best snobbish tone of voice.

"Oh, is that why you enjoy flying? It makes looking down on others easier?"

"For your information, I fly because it's fun. It's an experience unlike anything else." Shione responded, suddenly serious. "And if Anem never lets me fly again, then I'll just go back to my old habits and grab a wyvern…there's gotta be one around somewhere, right?"

"Wouldn't that disqualify you from the Ylissean pegasus knights?" Cainne asked. "Just on principle?"

"Probably, if they didn't need me so bad." Shione told her. Cainne knew he was right. The only reason he was here now instead of running missions with them was thanks to Chrom himself. The new Ylissean ruler had once promised his support in helping them find Aiden, and now he'd followed through. Shione had been part of the deal, though he wasn't all. The new Exalt had also pulled a few strings with Ragna Ferox, and a small cargo ship had sailed from Port Ferox to meet them at Altea and provide transport to Valm, as soon as they had their destination. Now they were in full sail, days away from land.

"It must be nice being needed for once." Cainne told him. "It's probably a new feeling for you."

"Oh, please." Shione sighed. "You know you need me, bunny."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." She answered. For a second, Shione was silent. Then he stared at her.

"What, no comment on the nickname this time?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"I've realized that I really don't care." Cainne explained. "Call me whatever you want."

"Wait, you're ignoring me?" Shione questioned. "How am I supposed to get your attention if you're ignoring me?"

"I don't know." Cainne answered, smiling. "You'll figure something out, I'm sure. Maybe it'll involve less sarcasm."

"Who am I without snark?" He replied. "Why, just a dazzling, sophisticated ace flyboy…wait, you've never been flying, have you?"

"I'm a Taguel. We generally prefer to stay on the ground. Why?"

"I'm just thinking that you shouldn't judge us fliers until you've been up there yourself. The next time we aren't involved in some world-shaping conflict, you're going up with me."

"You can't be serious." Cainne said.

"You're the one who said I had to find some other way to annoy you!" Shione said, then ducked belowdecks before she could reply.

"I suppose I walked right into that, didn't I?" She asked no one in particular. At least one passing sailor nodded in affirmation.

* * *

Lyta knew that Martin was approaching, even if she couldn't see his face in the dim lighting. She knew from the sound of his footsteps, his particular walking gait, and from the muffled clanking of the armor under his coat. When he hit his head on a low-lying beam, the yelp was only confirmation to his identity.

"Hello, Martin."

"Hey, Lyta. Yeesh, dark enough down here?"

I think so, yes."

"You're telling me. I can barely see my hand in front of my face. I don't even know where you are right now. Am I facing the right way, at least?"

"Yes."

"Something's really eating at you, huh?" Martin asked. "Two years ago, you'd have been laughing, not brooding."

"Two years ago, I wasn't in an alternate timeline, threatening the fate of dozens of people every time I made idle chatter." She answered, raising her voice slightly. It was okay, she could tell they were the only two people in this section of the ship.

"I'm sure Aiden ditching us all doesn't exactly help, does it?"

"He took one of my cloaks." She said.

"Maybe that's why we can't find him." Martin joked. "But I'm pretty sure that doesn't justify wanting to kill him, though." Lyta's eyes widened, unseen in the darkness. "Yeah, Lon'qu told me about your little chat. For the record, I don't think you're the kind who'd ever put an arrow in my back if you felt like it. But you have to have a little more trust in people. If our hunch is right, and Aiden is there, what will you do?"

"I…I don't know. I'd like to think that I could look him in the eye again, but…he betrayed us once. And I don't trust people easily."

"I'm not asking you to trust him." Martin said quietly. "I'm not sure I can anymore, either. I just want you to give him a chance. Let us handle him. Let the court back home decide what becomes of him."

"Alright. I can do that."

"Oh, and one more thing, Lyta." Martin added. "Just keep in mind that you can talk to us, alright? You don't have to keep everything bottled up. That's what having people you trust is for." For a moment, she didn't respond. She didn't really know how to. His words were comforting, the exact sort she had been hoping to hear…and yet, they almost seemed too good to be true. Could he really understand? Could any of them?

"Any more requests?" She finally responded, forcing some happiness into her voice.

"Yeah. Head up to the top with me. You've spent the whole journey cooped up down here and we've almost arrived." Grudgingly, she stood up and followed him into the blinding sunlight.

"Good, the master tactician arrives," Shione greeted Martin while following him up the stairs. "And Lyta too…what'd you do to get her out of her hole?"

"I'm sure what Shione means to say is it's good to see you." Cainne interjected forcefully, elbowing Shione in the side.

"Er, yeah, sure." Shione responded. "So we're a day away from making port, and I've yet to hear what we're actually going to do. I feel like I'm all dressed up for a ball that isn't happening."

"And there you go." Martin answered. "There's your plan."

"What, going to a ball?" Shione asked.

"No, don't be ridiculous. Who would possibly plan anything important at a ball?" Martin replied. "I meant the dressing up. I figured we'd pull a page out of our book of tricks. After all, it's worked before." He tugged on the collar of his cloak.

"We're disguising ourselves as the enemy again?" Cainne asked.

"Yep. Shione and I will salvage some uniforms and figure out where the relics were headed. You two will go find Aiden. If he's here, you're the most likely to figure out where."

"You think this will work a second time?" Lyta asked.

"I'm counting on it."

"Oh, that's reassuring." Shione said. "I really have to stop calling you a master tactician. It's inflating your ego."

"If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears." When Shione was silent, Martin continued. "Yeah, that was my answer too. We go with this, and if things go wrong, we improvise."

"Sometimes, I wonder what we need a tactician for if the only tactics we ever follow are 'improvise.'" Shione lamented.

* * *

"I'm telling you, something's not right about all this." Henrik grumbled. Torrin, his friend and fellow Grimleal, just grunted from across the table. "Why the hell are we meeting someone way out at the harbor, anyway? Shouldn't we just meet them at the gate?"

"You and I both know that we're only here because of those special security measures they put in place for this assembly. We meet our contact here and escort them to the base, but we're supposed to be verifying their identity all the while. If they aren't really who they say they are, we take care of them, well away from base."

"So why send us into the middle of a Valmese army port? And in uniform, no less? We're just asking for trouble if anyone notices us. Something isn't adding up."

"My job isn't to question my orders. You know how our leaders are. They see things we don't. They know the future. We just do what they tell us and be where they send us. That's how we secure Grima's ascendance." Torrin yawned, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. "Plus, being told to wait around in a safehouse isn't exactly the most dangerous job. Be grateful, we could be the ones out there fighting the Valmese." He braced for Henric's inevitable response, knowing well enough that his friend couldn't handle the thought of being on the sidelines. But it never came. Maybe the fool had finally come around to his way of thinking…

Moments later, Torrin was unconscious on the floor, disabled just like Henrik. Martin stepped over the unconscious Grimleal and glanced towards Shione, who was already liberating the other mage's robes.

"You hear that?" The tactician asked. "They're waiting for someone."

"Yeah." Shione answered. "We need to move quick, get out of here before they show up."

"Not what I was thinking." Martin told him. "They probably don't know who was sent for them, and we don't know the way to the Grimleal base. They might be our ticket in."

"If these guys were supposed to be escorts, wouldn't they be leading this person, not the other way around?"

"It sounded like they thought this person would have known where they were going without help. We just have to act like we know what we're doing." With that, Martin grabbed the headpiece from the downed Grimleal and placed it on his own head. With his jacket drawn closed and the appropriate headwear, Shione had to admit he looked the part.

"Alright then, if you think it'll work." Shione proceeded to don his own disguise. They tied up the unconscious Grimleal and shoved them into a closet. With any luck, the Ylisseans would be gone before they woke up. Then, Martin settled down in a now unoccupied chair to wait while Shione told the others what the plan was. Cainne and Lyta would follow them discretely, and then split off once they had arrived at the Grimleal base. When Shione walked back in a few minutes later, nothing had changed.

"Any idea how long we're supposed to wait?" Shione asked after some time had passed.

"Be patient." Martin answered. "They'll get here when they get here."

"I assume you must be referring to me?" Martin and Shione stood up as quick as they could, turning to the speaker. It was a young man dressed in Grimleal robes, face obscured by the hood of the cloak he wore. His head was cocked to the side, as if puzzled by their reaction. Shione recovered first.

"Ah, yes, of course." The pegasus knight said. "You are the one we are to escort, correct?"

"That I am." The Grimleal responded. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to set off soon. The meeting is to begin soon, and I find myself stuck in a Valmese harbor rather than where I should be."

"By your word." Shione told him. "We are prepared to set out as soon as you are."

"Good. If we set out now, we should make it before nightfall." With that, the Grimleal stepped out of the doorway, clearly aware already of where he was headed. Martin and Shione followed.

* * *

The sun was setting when they stopped. Shione looked around, confused. Some hours ago, they'd wandered off marked trails and into a dense forest. They had stopped in a clearing, but as far as Shione could tell, there was nothing here. His stomach dropped as the possibility that they had walked into a trap crossed his mind. But the one they had followed here made no action, did not try to run or turn to fight them. He just stood there.

Then the air before him shimmered. As if a curtain had been drawn back, things began to materialize in front of them. Large stonework structures littered the clearing. They were ancient and crumbling, and the dusk only made them more intimidating. Guards, half-seen in the shadows, looked out at them from crumbling towers and cracked ramparts. Martin and Shione's guide continued into the ruins.

As they passed through the crumbling structures, Shione was intensely aware of dozens of pairs of eyes that watched him. Some of the observers wore the robes of magi, but others bore more conventional arms and armament. All had incorporated Grimleal designs into their outfits, however. These had to have been the special security measures that the Grimleal agent had mentioned.

"Halt!" A voice, deep and resounding, called out. A pair of guards wielding tower shields and lances approached. The six-eyed pattern was clearly visible on the front of both their shields and their cuirasses. They did not say a word as they looked over the trio. One turned to the Grimleal that the Ylisseans had escorted.

"I do not recognize your…servants." The guard said slowly. "They cannot enter."

"There must have been a misunderstanding." The Grimleal replied. "These are the men who were assigned to escort me. As such, they will attend me until such a time as I no longer need them."

"I am not positive they are who you think they are." The guard replied. Shione tensed up.

"Allow me to make myself clear." The Grimleal said, his tone calm. "They. Are. With. Me." Something about the way he spoke set off alarm bells in Shione's mind. Something about this man was dangerous. Very dangerous. The guard seemed to agree. He backed off, his face pale. He nodded to his comrade, who did the same. A pair of stone doors slowly swung open, revealing steps that descended into the ground. The Grimleal proceeded down them. Shione and Martin had no choice but to follow.

* * *

Cainne watched as they disappeared and the doors closed behind them, a cold knot of dread forming in her stomach. Was Aiden here? Was he underground?

"C'mon, let's go." Lyta told her, gesturing towards the door.

"We aren't going to get in through the main entrance." Cainne observed.

"This base is built into old ruins. There has to be another entrance somewhere." Lyta told her. "And if not, we can make one." She broke a fist-sized rock off the wall they were hiding behind to illustrate her point.

They moved from cover to cover, staying at the very edge of the complex. Cainne herself wasn't an expert at staying hidden, but Lyta more than picked up the slack. Through her excellent direction, they were able to proceed further and further into the ruins without being detected. At one point, Lyta brought them to a halt as a patrol marched past.

"…don't even understand why we're bothering with this guy." One said to the other. "He's not worth the effort it took to turn the stables into a prison cell. This place wasn't supposed to hold prisoners." They were far enough away that Lyta could no longer hear them. Cainne, on the other hand, had no such issues.

"He'll break. They all do." The second guard responded. "And when he does, we'll know everything he's been keeping secret."

"Well I wish they'd hurry it up." The first one said. "The guy gives me the creeps."

A prison in the stables? And with only one occupant. One occupant they were interrogating. Was it Aiden? There was only one way to find out.

"The stables have to be near somewhere open." Lyta whispered. "We keep going around the perimeter, we'll find it."

They eventually stumbled onto a portion of the clearing that would have been perfect for a stables. The forest here was relatively open and the terrain was smooth. And yet, the only thing to be found was a wall of solid stone. Cainne stood up to look around. No one beyond the two of them were visible. She used the moment of relative safety to think, leaning against the wall.

It surprised her when she landed on the ground. Cainne was on her back, staring up at a ceiling. The clearing they had been had been replaced with a stone wall, and she appeared to be in a large, empty room. She could hear and smell the horses that were tied against the wall. This was the stables. But more importantly, she wasn't alone.

"Who the-" a Grimleal guardsman noticed the Taguel that appeared suddenly in front of him. "Hey!"

Cainne scrambled to her feet, but she was at a disadvantage. She was off balance and outnumbered, two to one. Where was Lyta?

Two arrows materialized through the wall. One hit a guard in the throat. The other hit the second guard's armor. Cainne pulled out her lance and took advantage of the momentary distraction to strike him down. Lyta materialized through the wall next, and Cainne understood. It had been an illusion, like the one that had hid the fortress in the first place. The horses in the stable, unnerved by the sights and sounds of the skirmish, started to panic, but could do little from their pens.

"Nice shooting." Cainne told Lyta. "Looks like we found the stables."

"And looks like we've found our prison." Lyta pointed out, gesturing to one pen that had been replaced with a large metal cage.

"So, you're finally here for me, huh?" the prisoner had noticed the struggle. He went up to the bars, and Cainne was able to get a good look at his face. She suppressed a gasp. The Mad King laughed. "Well then. Come and take your revenge!"

* * *

Martin was mentally taking notes as he passed through the underground complex. This place was massive, if the number of tunnels and holes that branched off this main corridor was any reference. Interestingly enough, though, it was mostly empty. In contrast to the heavy concentration of guards up above, there seemed to be only a few people actually dwelling in the fortress, all busily attending to preparations for…something, presumably the meeting that he'd heard discussed. A few other groups like his own occasionally crossed their path, usually involving some obviously high-ranking Grimleal and a few escorts. And yet, they always treated the one he was following with deference. Martin had guessed that this person was powerful based on the guard's reactions, but now he was curious just who this stranger was. And if he were exposed, what would they do?

Eventually, the tunnel widened, and they stepped into a large stone chamber. The corners of the room were lit by magical fire, while cracks in the ceiling let the fading sunlight illuminate the center. A raised platform dominated the room, surrounded by six smaller daises, though none seemed occupied at the moment. The main floor, on the other hand, had been taken up by approximately a dozen ranking Grimleal, each with escorts. Martin followed their Grimleal to an unoccupied corner, taking a seat on a bench near one of the magical purple braziers.

"How wonderful," the Grimleal spoke, "to see that so many cells could attend this conference."

"Of course, sir." Martin replied, unsure whether he should have just remained silent.

"I'm sure by now you must have plenty of questions." The Grimleal said, looking to him.

"I have been told what I need to know, sir."

"Oh, come now. You must be wondering what all this is, or who I am, or even why I stuck up for you at the gates despite knowing you weren't Grimleal. As a tactician, your mind must be absolutely bursting with questions."

"I have no idea what you mean, sir." Martin spoke calmly, but he was suppressing panic. His hand gripped his tome, and his eyes shifted across the room, looking for exits.

"Listen, Martin." The Grimleal spoke far too calmly. "I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble if I didn't know already who you were. The treasure ships, the two lackeys conveniently placed so that you could steal their uniforms, the helpful guiding to the complex, even this meeting was called for your benefit, though no one else here realizes it. And of course, that shipping manifest that suggested your precious tome was here. It isn't, of course. But I am."

"Get ready to run." Shione whispered in his ear, and drew a knife from his robes.

"Do calm down, Shione. No one here will hurt you. No one is even aware that we're discussing anything more important than, say, what we had for dinner. And things will stay that way unless you were to, say, make a break for the door. Then I simply couldn't stop you two from making a scene in front of all these poor, dangerous mages. Now, let go of your weapons and have a seat." He dropped his hood. Martin stared at the Grimleal, only to find Robin staring back. He smiled.

"I believe we have plenty to discuss."

* * *

Lyta drew her bow. Cainne threw her hand in front of her friend.

"Lyta, stop!"

"He's a threat."

"Oh, do listen to your companion. I'm a mad dog. I deserve to be put down." Gangrel lamented, in sharp contrast with the grin on his face.

"We'll figure that out later. Right now, I want to question him."

"Oh, joy. The Grimleal haven't questioned me enough already."

"What are you doing here?" Cainne asked him, ignoring the previous remark.

"Oh, you don't know?" Gangrel asked, the smirk fading slightly. "Why, I've been captured, of course!" He waved grandiosely to the cage he was trapped in. "I'm more interested in why you're here. I'd figured you Ylisseans were here to get your revenge, courtesy of the princeling…if he is even still a prince…but if you didn't know I was even here, then why are you here? Could it be you want to stick it to these rats just as much as I do?"

"I thought you were working with the Grimleal." Cainne stated.

"I was, and then I wasn't." Gangrel laughed. "It's amazing what a stirring speech can do for a person. The ceasefire I called? That was honest. But I'm sure you've figured out by now that I couldn't exactly see it through."

"I'm finding it hard to believe anything he's saying." Lyta told Cainne.

"Which is smart, in all honesty." Gangrel cut in. "I wouldn't trust me, either. And yet, everything I have said was the truth. And so you can choose to believe me or not when I tell you that if you're seeking revenge for the murder of the Exalt, I'm not your man."

"And just what does that mean?" Lyta asked, bow at the ready.

"Quite simply, I mean that in order to avenge someone's death, they have to be dead first."

"You mean, the Exalt, she's…"

"Yes. Not well, but certainly doing better than a corpse. Of course, I wouldn't recommend you tell your princeling. He has much bigger issues to deal with. And I assure you, she's probably safer than anyone else right now." He seemed, for once, to be speaking honestly. But the grin on his face wouldn't go away.

"Just whose side are you on, anyway?" Cainne asked.

"My own." He replied. Then, after a moment, he added, "and his…he's the whole reason I've been dealing with this sham, after all."

"Who?" Cainne asked, more intensely. "What sham?"

"Why, the sham is my entire imprisonment. It's all part of an elaborate ruse. Not the bars, or the torture. That's all very real. In fact, I came here half expecting to die in this cell, which I'm sure your friend wouldn't mind." He pointed at Lyta, then continued. "I'm not sure I disagree, either. The sham, though, is why I'm here in the first place. You see, I'm the king who is willingly sacrificed so the pawn can reach the end of the board. My role in this game is at an end, but my actions have enabled another to strike back at the Grimleal. And after all I've taken, it's good to give back."

"Who?" Cainne pressed. "Who is the pawn, the other person?"

"A strange fellow I met. Wields two swords and a silver tongue." Gangrel replied. "I doubt you've met."

"Aiden." Cainne said to herself.

"Why, yes, that was his name! You have met! What a small world."

"I haven't seen him recently, though apparently everyone else has." Cainne told him. "Where is he?"

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't say." Gangrel answered. "It would ruin the illusion we worked so hard to perfect. But the truth is that I have honestly no idea what has become of him. Sorry." He apologized in a tone that wasn't very sincere, but for some reason Cainne believed him. Gods damn it, she had been so close.

"Now then." Gangrel continued. "Are you going to leave me to rot here, or will you put me down like the mongrel I am? Either way, do hurry. I have so much to do."

Cainne would have liked to leave him here for the Grimleal after seeing what he'd done, but she couldn't. Instead, she readied her lance. She twirled it around and slammed the metal-reinforced butt into the cage's locking mechanism. The shoddily constructed lock burst apart, and the door swung open. For once, the grin on Gangrel's face disappeared.

"That," he stared in confusion, "was not the answer I had expected."

The former Mad King stepped out of his cell, and Cainne was able to get a good look at him. He was in bad shape. His frame, already wiry to begin with, was now emaciated. His clothing appeared to be the tattered remnants of the attire he'd worn as king. The smell that Cainne had assumed to be the result of the stable itself was in fact emanating from him. But he walked out of the cell like a warrior rather than a prisoner. He strode over to one of the guards and grabbed his blade. After a few test swings, Gangrel sheathed it in his belt.

"Alright then. Who wants to stage a jail break?"

* * *

"Grima." Martin whispered.

"In the flesh." Grima answered. "I'm so glad to see you both here. To be honest, I wasn't sure this would work."

"What do you want?" Shione asked, voice trembling.

"A very good question. You and your comrades fascinate me. To be honest, your very existence is infuriating to me, not to mention everything you've done so far. But that's what I have come to enjoy about you. In the face of impossible odds, you've somehow not only come to exist, but have actually thrived. It's simply fascinating. However, you must already know your struggles are futile. I am a god. You cannot kill me. Many have thought they did, and yet here I am."

"You're bluffing." Shione replied. "You're scared of us. You know we can stop you."

"I'm certain you would try. You might even succeed once or twice. But it wouldn't be enough. And that is where we differ. I know how this will inevitably end. Your emotions have blinded you to it. When you look at me," He looked to Shione, "you see a monster that you fear. Or," and he looked at Martin, "that you fear becoming. When I look at you, however, I see opportunity."

"What-what do you mean?" Martin asked.

"To face impossible odds and succeed requires great skill. Skill that I would find useful in righting the wrongs of this and other worlds. Simply put: I want you and your companions to join me."

"What?" Shione almost yelled. "As if one of us would possibly join you!"

"Oh, it's more likely than you would think." Grima smirked. "But I figured it would take more convincing. Martin, you deny what you could become, but I can teach you how to control that which you fear. As for you, Shione, I know how to help you reclaim who you have lost. I have gifts for the others, as well. If you would serve me willingly, I might even spare your home. Your loved ones would go about the rest of their existences thinking that they had won. I need not disillusion them."

"You're insane." Martin growled. "What's to stop you from setting your lackeys on us if we say no?"

"As I said, you needn't fear about coming to harm." Grima explained. "I'm quite content to let you go."

"Why?" Shione asked.

"Because unlike a mortal, I have eternity to wait and plan. And I can be very patient. Sooner or later, I imagine you'll come to see my point of view. I do wonder if it will be before or after your homes lie in ruins, though…"

"You monster!" Shione roared, lunging at Grima. Martin blinked, and suddenly they were lying face-up on the field outside of the compound. He stood up to get his bearings and only then noticed the three horses bearing down on him.

"Martin!" Lyta called out, coming to a stop next to him. Cainne leapt down off her mount to help Shione up. "What happened?" Then Martin noticed the third rider.

"Gangrel?" he asked in confusion.

"Great, more Ylisseans appearing out of thin air." The Mad King replied.

"He was imprisoned here, not Aiden. He's on our side for now."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Martin replied. After what had just happened, Gangrel wasn't the strangest thing to occur here.

"You Ylisseans are far more trusting than I expected." Gangrel stated

"Give me the chance and I'll gladly run you through." Shione growled, on his feet.

"Go ahead." Gangrel laughed coldly. "But can it wait until we're well and gone from here? I'd much prefer not to die at the Grimleal's hands."

"Agreed." Martin said. "We need to go. Now."

"What happened in there?" Cainne asked.

"We'll explain later." Shione answered. "Nothing good."

Martin climbed into the saddle behind Lyta while Shione got on Cainne's steed. The Taguel herself shifted forms and followed on foot. They ran from the ruins as fast as their mounts could carry them. They needn't have bothered. As Grima had promised, no one pursued them.

* * *

Cainne watched Gangrel trot off on his own, bound towards the docks and whatever ship he could find to take him away from here. She wasn't sad to see the man go. But what he had said still ran through her head.

"Martin, Shione, we need to talk about what happened back there."

"You're not the only one." Shione replied.

"We'll sleep on the ship for the night." Martin suggested. "We discuss everything in the morning, and then we get back to Ylisse as fast as humanly possible."

Cainne nodded, but had to wonder what had shaken him up so bad. Just what had happened in the ruins?

* * *

Cera watched as Lord Validar ascended to the speaking platform and survey the assembled cell leaders.

"I'm glad you all could make it." He began. "The ongoing war effort against Valm has been successful so far, but new orders will be issued. We need to refocus our strength. To that end, I have…" he trailed off as a hooded advisor whispered into his ear. "My apologies, something has come up. We will continue this discussion on the morrow. You are all dismissed for now."

Cera let the room empty before making her own way out. This was very odd. Normally such a meeting would last well into the night, with little interruption for anything.

"Section leader." Lord Validar himself stood in her path, addressing her.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Your cell is currently operating in the area, correct?"

"Yes. They are working on sabotaging Valmese shipbuilding at the moment."

"Good, good." The hierophant nodded. "However, you have new orders, effective immediately."

"What would you have me do?" Cera asked.

"It seems we had intruders enter the grounds today. They will likely be leaving soon via the same harbor that your people are stationed in. You are to intercept them before they can flee tomorrow."

Cera nodded. "It will be done."

* * *

_The next chapter will be my last. Okay, wait, no, wrong phrasing. It will be the last chapter that is entirely from my own head for now, as we're going to be moving onto the Valmese war afterwards. And boy, I'm excited for what's to come. This chapter had a lot going on, but I don't think I'm going to do much in the way of author's notes. Partially because a lot of things here are plot-relevant, partially because apparently maybe four people out there have actually checked them out, and partially because I'm running out of space. Instead, I've got some bullet points below:_

_This chapter wasn't very action heavy. It, like many of the interlude chapters, was more meant to set the stage for what is to come. The next chapter, however, will make up for the lack of action here._

_There were quite a few things introduced in this chapter that will come up later, especially near the end. Take notes…or don't, because that'd be ridiculous._

_And to clarify, my inclusion of the nation of Altea was a reference more than anything. I wanted to acknowledge the original game, and it seemed like a plot-convenient way to do so. It will probably not be a plot point in and of itself. My depiction was based on the in-game battle map of the area from one of the old games, combined with the world maps of both it and Awakening. If you compare the two, it does seem that the sea surrounding the island of Altea really did disappear some time during those 2000 years, along with a lot of water on the old map. No, I don't know why. But then again, I suppose it's my privilege as the author of this tale to make something up, isn't it? As for the grasslands surrounding the city, that's because the chapter in which you fight Gangrel for the last time (which appears to be in a grassland or savannah) actually takes place relatively close to the part of the continent that was once Altea. So, that's where that came from._

_Anyway, that'll be all for now. The next chapter will be up as soon as my terrible class schedule allows. I'm excited for this one._


	15. Chapter 15: Confrontation, Part II

_Happy Halloween! Yes, I know I'm early, but I don't care. I'm one of those people who like to celebrate spooky things for the entire month. I guess it's sort of ironic that I can't handle anything actually scary, then. _

_However, this is not a Halloween-themed chapter, for two reasons: first, it's taken me long enough to get to this point without filler that doesn't really fit the tone of the story. Second, I didn't think I'd be finished in time for any Halloween jokes. _

_Instead, this chapter is about…well, wait and see. As always, leave a review to let me know what you thought._

* * *

Aiden had spent the rest of the night after the ball huddled in the barn with Borri and Jered, trying unsuccessfully to close his eyes and sleep. He couldn't help but worry about Cera, even though him worrying too much had been what drove her out into the night in the first place. She was the most capable out of any of them, and this part of the country was relatively peaceful, occupied as it was. But fear wasn't always rational. Knowing that he'd made an ass of himself didn't help him sleep, either.

He eventually drifted off to sleep, aware it had happened only waking only when the sun shining on his face woke him up. After Aiden explained to the others that Cera had decided to make her way back alone, the remaining trio of Grimleal had started the long march home. Morale wasn't particularly high: they were all aware that their mission had gone poorly. But they'd delivered the message and escaped alive… They couldn't have accounted for the actions of their target. Hopefully, the Grimleal command would accept that excuse when it came time to report in.

When they finally arrived in the village they called home, fear had replaced worry in Aiden's mind. Cera, despite appearances and temperament, was a powerful and influential Grimleal. He'd seen a glimpse of that at the manor, once things had gone wrong. Her playful demeanor had been replaced with aggression and fury. And they hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms. He could have already been a dead man walking. Even if she wasn't planning on acting directly, she might have already reported the results of the operation to their leaders and pinned it on him, a scapegoat she would be all too happy to get rid of. As kind as she had been to him, he had to remember that she was a part of a ruthless organization that did not forgive failure. And Aiden didn't think she'd gotten to her position on goodwill alone.

It had occurred to him that he might have been overreacting, but when dealing with the Grimleal, being cautious was standard practice. He needed to be prepared for anything. Even then, his preparation didn't prevent him from being nailed in the face as the door to their hideout burst open.

"Great, you're here!" Cera exclaimed, a relieved look in her eyes. "We need to be out of here by…where's Aiden?" The swordsmaster, clutching his forehead, groaned in response. "Oh, there you are. We're relocating. As of tomorrow, we need to be out of here."

"Wait, what?" Borri asked.

"Right, you haven't heard." Cera remembered. "The mission was a success. The Valmese general was very receptive to Lady Aversa's offers when she paid him a visit. Now command wants us to be the ones to act on the information he is providing."

"That's great and all," Jered sarcastically intoned, "but please don't tell me that means we report to that scumbag."

"No, he can't be seen with the enemy. He just provides the information to command, and they'll have us act on it. But that means we're going to be relocating quite a bit, so we need to clear out of here. Get packing."

Jered, grumbling, marched inside. Borri followed.

"Shame, I liked this place." Was all the thought the archer spared for their situation. Aiden, on the other hand, was left dazed –literally. Getting hit by the door had really hurt. Who threw their weight around like that opening a door, anyway? As if to answer, Cera flashed him a sly grin as she passed.

"Consider that payback." She said. "Now get going." Aiden shook his head in bewilderment. Was that it? He was in the clear? Well, if their mission had been a success…but still, she'd slammed a door in his face and called them even. For a supposed dark and powerful servant of the Fell Dragon, Cera could be surprisingly childish.

Cleaning out the hideout was a quick affair. Aiden didn't have much in the way of belongings to begin with, and he was used to carrying everything he needed on him. He, like Borri, also felt no deep connection with the location: it had after all just been a hiding place. But it was still a strange thing to be leaving. This place had been the only permanent home Aiden had lived in since he arrived in this world. Now, he'd be back to travelling most days. Things would be different this time. Now he had people to travel with, even if they were actually fanatical cultists.

The swordsmaster had this in mind as he paced across the house that night, checking one last time to make sure they hadn't left anything behind. The hallway was dark, he could see thanks to the light spilling from the open doorway of Cera's room. She had had an easier time packing than anyone else, since she traveled with even less than Aiden. And with her head start, she had been prepared to leave by the time Aiden and the others had just been arriving. Still, as team leader, she had kept busy, assisting the others and finalizing the details of the move. Even now, the mage was probably looking through their orders or at some old spell tome by candlelight. Or, Aiden realized as he noticed the gentle snoring emanating from her room, she was asleep.

He eased open the door, peering in. Sure enough, she was at her desk, face down and snoring away. Aiden let himself inside, intending to snuff the candles that Cera had left burning. As he did so, she stirred.

"Mmmm…wha…?" She mumbled.

"Go back to sleep. I've got this. You're tired."

"No…no I'm not…I can take care of…myself."

"I can tell." Aiden chuckled to himself.

"No, really." Cera said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "I'm awake. I'm fine."

"If you say so." Aiden responded.

"And I do." Cera replied. "Yeesh, you find out I can't walk and suddenly you want to do everything for me…"

She said it casually, but it caught Aiden off guard. He remained silent, unsure of what to say and worried that he'd offended her again. Cera, clearly waiting for a response, sighed heavily when it became clear that none was coming.

"Alright, we need to talk." She told him, walking over to her bed, sitting down, and motioning for him to sit next to her. "I'm not going to have you walking around on eggshells whenever we chat." Hesitantly, Aiden sat down.

"Look, I'm sorry for-" He began.

"Sorry? For what?" Cera cut him off.

"For finding out about your secret." Aiden grimaced.

"You think I'm angry about that?" Cera asked, laughing. "I mean, sure, I'm not too happy that Jered tried to use my personal life as leverage– and yes, I know he told you- but why would I care that you know? I mean, you don't get angry at me even though I know your hair is an absolute mess."

"Is it really that bad?" Aiden asked, absentmindedly reaching towards his scalp.

"Okay, maybe that was a bad example. But the point is, what Jered told you is just a part of who I am. I'm not trying to keep any secrets."

"Then why did you seem so upset after the mission?" Aiden asked.

"Well, it's like I said. As soon as you found out, you started acting differently towards me. I tripped. No big deal. But you tried to swoop in and save the day, as if I couldn't help myself. I accepted that I couldn't walk normally long ago, and I adapted. I turned that weakness into strength. But there are still people who act like I'm helpless or fragile. And that's what I can't stand. I know you meant well, but I don't want you or anyone else doing things for me or treating me differently. I can take care of myself. I always have."

"Alright, I get it." Aiden said. "But I don't think it's that simple."

"What do you mean?"

"I respect that you don't want to be pitied or belittled for who you are, and I don't plan on ever acting like you're worth any less than anyone else." Aiden responded. "But that doesn't mean you have to do everything by yourself. Friends support each other."

"Does that mean we're friends, then?" Cera asked. Aiden mulled it over. For her, it was an innocent enough question, but for him…he had to remember who his companions were, who they worked for. They were not good people, and not the best type of friends, either. But he couldn't deny that he had developed a genuine fondness for Cera. If someone had told him a few years ago that he would be even pondering this question…

"I'm not sure what else you could call us." He finally responded. Cera grinned, before looping an arm around his shoulder.

"Friends it is, then. I've led plenty of people, but I haven't had many friends. I'm lucky to have found a good one." Aiden just nodded in agreement. There would be plenty to consider about what he had done, but for now, he was content to think that he found a companion, however unlikely.

* * *

They had moved out of the hideout first thing the next morning, already on the way to their first assignment. The months that followed were filled with new missions, different from the prior ones only in their frequency and locations. With no home base to work from, they lived a nomadic lifestyle, albeit one supported by the Grimleal's extensive network of safehouses, supply caches, and agents. Being constantly on the move had its benefits: they were hard to track down, and they could hit targets that were much farther away. The major difference was that they chose where to attack on information provided by the traitorous general Excellus, rather than just hitting targets of opportunity. They raided, destroyed, or killed elements that were much more important to the Valmese war effort. It was grisly work, but Aiden took comfort in the knowledge that he was indirectly helping Ylissean and rebel Chon'sin forces.

Even with their record of successes, Excellus would eventually give them a mission that the Grimleal leaders deemed too dangerous for one team to handle. And so it was that Aiden found himself watching over his new least favorite person in the world.

He'd met Claudius once before, though he hadn't known the man's name or face at the time. Claudius was a cell leader, one of the ones who had been present at Aiden's own initiation. He was of the same general rank as Cera and was equally loyal to his cause, but that was the only similarity between them. Where Cera was approachable and friendly, Claudius was cold. Though he had agents who worked under him and his hair was starting to gray, he apparently enjoyed getting his hands dirty. According to Borri, the man had left behind a trail of bodies miles long before becoming a cell leader.

"That's him, the assassin I told you about when we first met." Borri had whispered to Aiden when the two cells had been introduced. "This means trouble."

The archer had been right. The two cells were to cooperate for the purpose of sabotaging a major Valmese military operation. They had been building ships in ports all along the coastline for months now, and with alarming speed. Now, enough soldiers and supplies were being gathered in these port towns and cities to supply a major invasion. According to Excellus, that was exactly what was planned. The Grimleal leadership hadn't shared much more than that, but Aiden knew what it meant: Ylisse was about to face invaders. It was likely that the only reason the Grimleal were getting involved was to keep Valm off-balance before the nation could turn its gaze to Plegia.

No matter their reasoning, they had tasked multiple groups to hit multiple locations along the coast, Cera's and Claudius' cells among them. Cera herself wasn't with them: she was off with most of the other cell leaders at some important meeting. With Valm making such a big move, the Grimleal leadership needed to discuss what they would do in response. The only reason Claudius hadn't attended was that he volunteered to see out missions like this one while the others were occupied. And so Aiden, Borri, and Jered had been placed under his command.

Trying to target the army encampments directly would be suicide, but the armies would be rendered useless if they had no ships to sail on. The ships were of course under guard, but Claudius had volunteered up his skillset, promising to take them out silently. Aiden and Borri had somehow wound up being assigned to watch his back from afar, while his own people covered the far side of the drydock. Unfortunately for the pair, that meant being forced to witness Claudius' unsavory work. Aiden had seen him single out one patrolling guard, a young man. He'd dragged the soldier behind a crate while the man's comrades were out of earshot, holding a knife to his throat. Aiden couldn't have heard, but he had assumed that Claudius had been pressing the terrified youth for information. Then, when he had all he needed, he'd slit the guard's throat and threw the body in the ocean.

Aiden realized it was hypocritical of him to dislike Claudius for killing: he himself had been drawn into equally unsavory situations. No, what made Aiden hate the cell leader was what Borri had told him moments later.

"There we go, he's working." Borri had said. "Nothing ever changes with this guy."

"You said earlier that he does a lot of assassination work?" Aiden replied.

"Yep. Real nasty stuff. You didn't hear this from me, but rumor has it he once got the drop on a trio of hunters, killed them, and then mutilated the bodies to make it look like some creature had done the work. All so the local kingdom would think the neighboring beastfolk tribe had gone feral and needed to be put down."

"He did what?" Aiden asked, a lead weight settling in his gut."

"The whole tribe got killed off by the guards, or so the rumors say. Which was exactly what his employer wanted. Apparently someone way up on the chain of command had predicted that they would be a threat to Grima's return, so he wanted them all dead. Still doesn't make it any less despicable."

"Gods…that's terrible." Aiden's stomach churned. That story was familiar. Borri had to be talking about the Taguel. They were the only beastfolk tribe he knew of, not to mention the only ones he knew that had been almost wiped out. Had Cainne been here, Aiden didn't know if he would have been able to keep her from killing Claudius on the spot. Hell, he likely wouldn't have even tried. The bastard deserved it. But as much as he would have liked to see Claudius die, they had a job to do.

"Agreed." Borri nodded. "If you're going to kill someone, do it right. Look them in the eye as you strike, don't let someone else do it or stab them in the back. It demeans you both and takes all the fun out of the kill."

"I…what?" Aiden inquired, thoroughly at a loss for words.

"If I were there, I would have burned the place to the ground myself. Then they would have at least had a chance to fight back, and they'd have known who killed them. And where's the enjoyment in letting someone else do all the work?" Borri responded, unaware that Aiden was staring at him in horror. "You know why we get along? Because we know how this job is supposed to work. No skulking in the shadows, no knives in the dark. I mean, sure, if Cera tells us to, we do it, but when the time comes for the fighting to start, we're right at the front lines. We enjoy our work. I tell you, that night at the ball was the most fun I've ever had on a mission. A party to crash and one hell of a brawl to finish it? Amazing."

"You enjoyed that?" Aiden asked, horrified but doing his best to keep it hidden. "We do a lot of killing, sure, but you think it's fun? These are people we're killing. Like us. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, sure, they're people. People that are fated to die. And it's our responsibility to do it. If we don't, someone or something else will. That's fate. We might as well enjoy the work we're doing. Come on, I thought you were with me on this." Aiden blinked, shocked. Was this what Borri really thought? Had Aiden not noticed? Or worse, had Aiden's own actions convinced Borri that the archer was in good company? Gods above…no, he couldn't focus on this now. They were in the middle of enemy territory. There would be time later to straighten this all out, but right now he couldn't focus on all that.

"Alright, sure, whatever." Aiden finally said. Borri didn't seem to notice the trembling in his voice.

* * *

When the first ship went up in flames, it should have been a good sign. It should have meant that the sabotage effort was going according to plan. Of the dozen or so vessels that had been tied off at the military docks here, it was the furthest to the south, meaning that it should have been the responsibility of Claudius' men, not Aiden or Borri. But no one had given the signal. The docks hadn't been cleared. Neither cell had actually done anything. Someone else had burned that ship, and they were not following the same plan.

The remaining Valmese noticed immediately. The alarm went up, and suddenly the docks were swarming with soldiers. The confusion Aiden had felt minutes before was gone, his mind occupied instead with getting out alive. He and Borri were up and moving as soon as the alarm sounded, moving as quickly as possible towards north. That was where the entrance to the docks was located, and where Jered had stationed himself in order to secure their retreat. They darted through narrow lanes created by shipping crates and stone walls, staying as low as possible to avoid detection. Claudius and his people had their own escape plans. Aiden hoped they were better than his own as a pair of Valmese army troops rounded the corner and cut them off. Borri reacted first, launching an arrow at the lead guard. Aiden went after the other one. The guard reacted quickly, his lance darting forward, seeking gaps in Aiden's defenses. The swordsmaster couldn't close the distance in the confined space. The stone to his left was unyielding. The crate to the right could be navigated, freeing up some space, but that would mean getting past Borri and avoiding exposing himself to his opponent.

Then the crate blew itself up. Dark magic engulfed both guards, ending them. Fragments of shipping crate rained down on Aiden and Borri. Jered rushed through the gap he had created.

"Well you sure know how to make a fucking entrance!" Borri cursed.

"We were compromised as soon as that damn bell rang." Jered explained. "We would have been clear of anyone pursuing us from inside the dockyard, but all these soldiers are coming from outside. Men who were stationed here to board the ships and sail. The whole town is up in arms."

"Shit." Borri eloquently summarized. "Well, what now?"

"The mission continues as planned." Jered answered. "We burn those ships and then get out. Where is Claudius?"

"Already gone." Aiden answered. "No idea where."

"Knowing him, he abandoned us as soon as things went wrong. We're on our own." Jered replied. "As for our escape route…anyone feel like going for a swim?"

"What about whoever lit that fire?" Aiden asked.

"If anyone is in your way, then get them out of your way. I don't care how." The dark mage answered. "We'll split up, take out the ships, and swim to safety. Borri, you still have your fire arrows?" Borri grinned and held up one; the green coating on the arrowhead glimmered in the light of the burning ship.

"I'll deal with the ones to the north." Borri said. "The place will be swarming with soldiers responding to the alarms, and I can do plenty of damage while keeping a distance."

"Fine. Aiden, can I trust you to deal with the four ships furthest south?" Jered asked. "You'd only have to deal with any Valmese that Claudius couldn't handle, but you might run into whoever set that ship ablaze." In response, Aiden nodded. "Then I'll handle everything in between." Dark magic flared to life in Jered's palm, and the trio split up.

By the time the second ship went up in flames, the Valmese on the docks were in disarray. Between the Grimleal to the north, the saboteurs to the south, and the smoke that was now filling the air, the dockyard was chaos. The soldiers filtering in from the north were more organized, but the same fortifications that Valm had set up to protect the dock were now working against its troops. This all meant that Aiden was able to move almost unopposed, though that wouldn't last forever.

A ship to the north went up in a blaze of green fire, meaning Borri had gotten to work. Aiden needed to start making his own contributions. As he reached the nearest ship, a pair of Valmese stumbled through the smoke, coughing. Aiden intercepted them, knocking them out while they were distracted. The third guard to appear had been his next target, but someone beat him to the punch.

Soldiers equipped with green robes and edges like his own appeared from the smoke behind the Valmese man, cutting him down with trained precision. Aiden guessed he had found the other saboteurs: rebel Chon'sin soldiers. One noticed him.

"Ken'so, take Han'ru and light that vessel ablaze." She called out to the two who had attacked the guard. "And you there, who is leading the attack to the north? They told no one of their actions."

"Uh, well, I'm not…" Aiden began.

"…One of us." The woman finished, peering through the smoke at him. As she drew closer, Aiden was able to make out more. She wore the robes of a Chon'sin swordsmaster, though colored in an unusual black and white. Her dark hair was tied back with a white headband, and she wielded two edges of similar style to the one Aiden owned. One was pointed at him. "Who are you?"

"Frankly, I'm not sure anymore. But I think we're on the same side." Aiden hastily explained. "You should really consider getting out of here. Valmese soldiers are going to be swarming the docks, and while I have no quarrel with you, I'm not so sure that my friends would get along with your friends." The swordswoman looked at him suspiciously.

"We cannot leave until our mission is completed. We will see the tools of our oppressors destroyed, before they can be turned against us."

"That's all well and good, but you don't need to worry. The Valmese aren't after you, they're after us. Get out while you can, lay low for a while. We'll take it from here." To prove his point, Aiden grabbed a tome from under his robes. It was a ruin tome, gifted to him by Jered before the mission had started. The spell was particularly adept at crippling enemies and destroying fortifications. Against the right target, like a ship's mast…

Aiden cast the spell, and it landed true. The base of the central mast splintered, and he watched as it collapsed, bringing the rest of the vessel's rigging with it. It wouldn't be as effective as burning, but Anima magic was Cera's territory. That one spell had exhausted Aiden enough. Having proved his point, he turned back to the rebel.

"Fie, we plan this assault for months, only to discover someone else had the same idea." She sighed. "Very well, I will not risk the lives of my men needlessly. Can you guarantee our safety for the time it will take us to regroup and leave?"

"Yeah, I can do that. Just make it quick."

The swordswoman disappeared into the smoke. Aiden watched as her men followed suit, until he was alone on the dock. With Borri and Jered off at other parts of the dock, their exit would be clear unless they happened on any Valmese. And with two of his targets burning and the third crippled, he himself didn't have much more work to do. The last ship he needed to take care of was slightly further to the north. Fortunately, that would put him in the perfect position to intercept any army soldiers before they could reach the rebels. Unfortunately, that meant dealing with the Valmese army. The quicker he could complete his task and clear out, the better.

The last ship was only a short distance away, but the Valmese army troops had already started to cover the docks, trying desperately to regain control of the situation. Three of them, dismounted cavalry troops by their equipment, stood between him and his destination. He leapt through the smoke, cutting one down before they had seen him. Unfortunately, the others were paying attention. They crept around his sides, trying to flank him. He could only back up so far before his back found a wall. Then they attacked.

He sidestepped the first one's lance, letting the man's momentum carry him into the other's path. The second guard avoided his friend's strike and started to harry Aiden with his blade. Steel met steel as Aiden parried and tried to counterattack, hoping to end this before the first guard recovered and it became a two-on-one fight again. If he had still possessed his matched edges, he could have parried and countered simultaneously and ended it, but he was stuck with one weapon for the time being. And though he knew how to wield a single blade, his opponent was very skilled.

The lance thrusting towards him reminded Aiden of the first man, apparently recovered. He grabbed it with a free hand as it came towards him, yanking it towards empty air and dragging the overbalanced soldier to the ground. This one evidently wasn't as experienced. The move wasn't without its risks, however, and the second guard managed to land a solid hit on Aiden's shoulder.

Pain coursed through the swordsmaster as the blow connected, and his blade fell out of his hand. That had been his good arm. Fortunately, his training had rendered him almost totally ambidextrous, and he grabbed the weapon with his free hand. Then, in a fluid motion, he slammed the pommel of his weapon into the helmet of the sword-wielding soldier, stunning them for long enough to open the distance.

The first guard got up to his feet, using his lance to support him. The second shook his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ears. Both were off balance, but Aiden had only one good arm. Every time there was an opening, whether by chance or design, the other guard would cover it. And they would recover from the damage he had inflicted. His arm, though… He had vulneraries on his pouch, but that would mean dropping his weapon to get them. Could he take the risk?

As it turned out, he didn't need to. His battered body was suffused with a warm glow, arm tingling as the rent flesh knitted itself back together and feeling returned. Moments later, a burst of flame erupted between the guards, knocking them both back and punching a sizable hole in the dock. Gods, Cera was amazing…Wait, Cera?

"Once again, I pull your ass out of the fire in the nick of time." The Grimleal cell leader said, floating down through the smoke. "One of these days, maybe you'll even thank me for it."

"I'm pretty sure I do, regularly." Aiden shot back. "Besides, aren't you supposed to be at a conference or something?"

"I was. Plans changed. We have a new mission at the waterfront. An urgent one to be done before the night ends. So I teleport myself over here and find you've set half the damn place on fire."

"It's been a hell of a night…" Aiden groaned. "Please tell me this urgent mission is to go take a nap."

"Not quite. Where are the others?" As if on cue, the mast of the final ship Aiden was supposed to destroy was splintered by a spell, and then set afire by a blazing green arrow.

"You had one job, Aiden, and I have to do it for you." Jered grumbled, appearing through the smoke. Borri was close behind. "Now we need to go before half the Valmese army finds…Cera?"

"You were saying?" Borri snickered, before waving to Cera. "Hey boss! What brings you out here?"

"I'll explain later. I'm assuming there's nothing else for us here?" Cera asked. Jered nodded, and she opened a tome. "Then hold on!"

* * *

The blinding glare faded away, and Aiden found himself teleported onto the upper deck of a sailing vessel, this one fortunately not ablaze. The glow in the distance, however, let him know they hadn't gone too far.

"What the…?" Borri blinked, confused.

"Your little assault tipped our target off. They had already started moving. I had to act quickly to catch them."

"Who?-" The soldier steering the ship had time to say before Borri strangled him into unconsciousness.

"It seemed like he wasn't friendly." Was all the archer said. Cera nodded.

"A handful of individuals snuck into the meeting today. We are unsure what information, if anything, they were able to escape with, but we were ordered to pursue them nonetheless." The others nodded, but something caught Aiden's attention.

The man at the ship's wheel wasn't Valmese. In fact, by his uniform, Aiden figured him to be from Ragna Ferox. But why would the Feroxi be here?

An arrow flew out of the darkness, embedding itself in the railing next to him. Aiden vaguely heard Cera yelling for them to look out before a blast of wind pushed him over the side. He landed in the waters of the bay and swam to the surface of the water, sputtering. From here, he could barely make out Cera barking orders, and then the sound of magic. He couldn't stay drifting here, and there was a balcony on the stern of the ship above him. The only thing left to do was climb.

* * *

Cera cursed, watching yet another black arrow fly towards her heart, knocked aside only by a well-timed burst of wind magic. The ship wasn't massive, so where were they?

"Come out!" The dark mage yelled.

"Not a chance." The archer responded from somewhere. "Surrender. You don't know who you're dealing with."

"Of course I do, meddler." Cera sneered. "You're a mistake that needs to be removed!"

There! Movement! Cera reacted quickly, launching a crackling bolt of lightning towards the spot. It shot out into empty air, briefly illuminating the black-hooded assassin who stood just next to its path, bow in hand.

"And I," Cera growled, electricity arcing from her palms, "will be the one to do it!"

* * *

Borri crawled towards the captain's cabin, bow at the ready. Jered followed closely behind. Cera had told them that she would clear the upper deck, and that they had to get below and clear the rest of the ship out before the crew had a chance to react.

And yet, as they walked down the cramped corridors of the lower deck, things were quiet. Apart from the pair of sailors, quickly dispatched, that had been trying to climb up the same ladder the Grimleal had used to get down, the ship was apparently empty. As much as he hated saying it, the phrase "too quiet" came to mind.

There were some signs of life, at least. Candles still flickered in some rooms. The crew existed, at least, but they were in hiding. \

"Borri…" Jered warned.

"The crew's got to be belowdecks." Borri responded. "We can deal with them later."

"I'm not worried about them." The dark mage responded. Borri looked back. A soldier had appeared, blocking the hall. Silvery hair framed a young-looking face, but there was no mistaking the determination in the man's eyes. His burnished armor was so light that it looked almost flimsy, but Borri imagined it would be harder to get past the razor-sharp halberd the newcomer leaned against.

When Borri turned his gaze back to the front, looking for an exit, he saw the second man. Borri would have thought he was another Grimleal, but for the blade he was brandishing towards them. His coat was the same dark shade as his hair, no doubt stolen from one of Borri's comrades. Unlike the other one, his eyes were constantly scanning the room.

For a moment, the four warriors stared at each other, motionless.

"Alright," Borri broke the silence. "I'll bite. Who're you supposed to be?"

"I get the distinct impression that I should be asking you that question." The dark-haired one replied.

"It doesn't matter who they are." Jered growled. "They're in the way, they die."

"That's awfully tough talk, kid." The one with the halberd spoke evenly. "You're the ones surrounded. I'd ask you to surrender, but I know your type."

"You know nothing about me. But I know all about you." Jered countered. "And if I've learned anything, it's that your kind are always so predicable!"

Borri had fired before Jered had finished speaking. The man in the coat moved out of the way, but Borri hadn't been aiming for him. The arrow impacted the wall nearby, the glass phial attached to the arrowhead shattering on impact. The black dust that had been inside filled the air, creating an effective smokescreen. Borri fired through the smoke, but already knew nothing had hit.

Jered found himself the victim of an unexpectedly quick assault from the halberdier, but Grimleal sorcerers were trained to fight just as well in close quarters as at range. Any one of the burst of dark magic he launched towards his foe would have been enough to destroy most foes, but none of them connected. Even in tight quarters, Jered's foe was incredibly agile.

Borri knew he had to give his comrade room to maneuver, so he charged through the black cloud. The man he faced had disappeared into the bowels of the ship. Borri grinned. His prey was clever. This would be fun.

* * *

Cainne paced about the cabin, contemplating what Martin had told her. Grima knew they were here. He'd set the whole thing up. And like flies to honey, they had come all too willingly. Now, Cainne would be all too happy to see the Valmese coastline disappear from sight. Though the plan had been to leave by morning, the fire in the military wharf nearby had set everyone on edge. The crew, once reluctant to get back on a ship so soon after making port, had been all too happy to leave that very night.

The captain and most of the men had gone below once the wharf's alarm had rang out and the Valmese had begun patrolling the waters. If the vessel had bene interdicted, the skeleton crew above deck could have claimed to be a simple trading vessel, for that was what they actually were. In the confusion, the Valmese would be more likely to let a small, lightly crewed ship go by. In the meanwhile, Cainne had been allowed to use the captain's cabin to plan out their next steps. They were heading for Port Ferox as soon as possible, and it fell to her to alert Lord Chrom and the Khans of what she had learned.

But what exactly, would she tell them? That Grima knew things about her and her friends that should have been secret from everyone, Chrom included? That Gangrel was alive, and more importantly so was Emmeryn? Unfortunately, keeping Chrom in the dark about that particular detail had been one of the Mad King's more sane ideas. But she had to tell him something, to warn him somehow…right? Cainne looked through the window, towards the retreating flames that now engulfed the Valmese docks. She was able to react, then, when the hooded figure crashed in through the window.

Cainne struck first, trying to catch the assailant off-guard, but they parried the blow to the side, just as they had a thousand times before. Cainne knew that style, and she knew the face of the man almost as well as she knew her own, even obscured as it was by his cloak. The look of shock on his face told her that he remembered, too.

"Cainne?" He asked slowly. "You…what are you...why are you here?"

"You know as well as I that I was sent to track you down." She responded. "But as to why I am here, on this ship, it is because we were searching for the tome we all used to get here. Aiden, you must be careful. The Grimleal have it."

"Yeah, I know." He replied, confusion etched onto his face. What was he trying to understand? "I'm working on getting it back. But if you were the ones who pissed them off…oh gods, shit!. Listen, you need to get out. They're here for you."

"So be it." Cainne told him. "I'm not going anywhere. Stay with us. Help us push them back."

"I…I can't do that." Aiden told her. She could tell he was in anguish. "I can distract them, maybe, buy you some time to jump in the ocean and leave. Find the next ship home."

"Have you already forgotten all that time we spent fighting side by side? We can stop them, so why…" Then, she understood. It sickened her, but she understood. Everything he knew that he shouldn't, his peculiar behavior, the refusal to deal with their foe… "You're with them, aren't you?"

"I can't explain everything to you, not now. But, yeah, I guess."

"I knew you had changed, but to think you've already forgotten your comrades?" Cainne almost yelled, her heart wanting to tear itself apart. "How could you do this?"

"It's not like that! I wouldn't betray you, ever! Come on, you know me better than that!"

"Once, maybe. Once I thought you weren't the kind of person to steal relics, abandon everyone who cared for you, and travel across worlds to get away. Once I thought you weren't the kind of person who would ally himself with zealots and murderers!"

"I know it looks bad. I'll be the first to admit this is all messed up. But trust me on this! Look, I might be able to get the Grimleal out of here, just give me-"

"You are not leaving." Cainne stated with finality. "You are going to come home and atone for what you have done."

"I can't do that, Cainne. This isn't what you think. I know you think I'm a fool. Maybe I am. But everything I've done has been for a reason. I can't just give up now." Cainne understood. She knew that Aiden would not willingly give up. He had always been stubborn. But Cainne wasn't going to give him that option, not any more. And so, she found herself lunging at the one person she had once been closest to in the world.

* * *

Lyta leapt out of the shadows, a knife in hand. The Grimleal reacted, launching themselves skyward with a very familiar spell. The assassin let her momentum carry her forward, back into the darkness.

"I thought I recognized you." She said to herself, readying her bow and looking for a target.

"You don't have your friend to help you this time!" The mage roared, right behind her. Lyta dove to the side as a bolt of lightning seared the spot she had been standing, twisting in midair to loose an arrow in the direction of the voice. It would have struck home if the Grimleal's wind magic hadn't plucked it from the air. Damn it, the witch's defenses were always in the way! She had to distract them somehow.

"Come out!" The Grimleal roared. "I will burn this vessel to the ground if need be!" They dodged the next arrow with inhuman reflexes.

"You wouldn't." Lyta said. "Not with your friends aboard!"

"That's rich, coming from you." The mage replied. "What would a heartless killer like you know about friendship?" That hurt more than Lyta was willing to admit. What did the mage know? Lyta shook her head and started climbing the ship's rigging. Not important.

"I suppose it doesn't matter, really. The people you call friends are probably already dead! No one will care about you! Or should I say, who you were!" Lyta knew she was being goaded. The funny thing was, she didn't care. The assassin leapt from her perch.

The two collided in midair, the surprise addition of an extra person's worth of weight dragging the mage to the deck. Lyta, enraged, threw punch after punch as they grappled, but she was careless. The mage held their own before landing a solid hit on Lyta's chin, dazing her long enough for the Grimleal to blast the assassin away. Lyta twisted in the air, landing on her hands and knees. The mage floated to the ground, unnaturally graceful. She barely seemed to notice when the arrow sprouted from her calf. What shocked Lyta was that she hadn't been the one to fire.

* * *

Shione ducked under another burst of magical energy, feeling the hairs on his neck stand up as it passed. This guy was good. The only problem was that he couldn't get away, not in these narrow corridors. Unfortunately, that meant that Shione's cavalry weapon wasn't exactly ideal, either.

"You cannot understand what I've suffered!" The young sorcerer roared. "What I've sacrificed!" With every shout, he cast another spell, blanketing the corridor with dark energy. Shione could barely keep out of the way, but he was steadily drawing closer.

"I am not some mere apprentice who can barely create a spark! I am chosen by Grima! I could have been a god!" Yeesh, apparently Shione had pissed him off. But he was getting tired of listening to the kid ramble on. And while the Grimleal had been distracted by his own ranting, Shione had reached striking distance. It was time to teach this guy not to lose focus.

The wooden end of his halberd hit the mage in the gut, hard. He doubled over, sucking wind. Shione's knee slammed against his chin, knocking the mage onto his back. Then, the pegasus knight leveled his poleaxe.

"Yeah, well, maybe I understand loss better than you think." He quipped. Unfortunately, he'd failed to pay attention to his own lesson, and the Grimleal took advantage of his hesitation to cast a spell. The bolt hit the ground beneath Shione's feet, the force knocking him backwards.

He shook his head to try to clear the ringing, but it didn't go away. It took a few moments to realize that the sound was coming from somewhere else. Metal rang against metal above deck, the boots of multiple individuals thudding across the planks.

Shione got to his feet, watching the Grimleal do the same. Evidently they had heard the noise too. Shione braced for another fight, but his foe started running towards the fighting above. Shione made to pursue, but only made it a few steps before collapsing. Gods, he was hurt worse than he expected. Must have been that blast. Shione looked down. Yep, that was blood, a fair bit. He'd seen worse, felt worse, but he wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

Then again, maybe he was hurt worse than he thought. The strange woman with the white headband certainly seemed like a hallucination…

* * *

Martin had begun to think that this archer was unhinged. They had been playing a game of cat and mouse through the ship, with Martin trying to get the drop on his opponent while his opponent simply tried to keep his distance and line up a shot. But every time they'd found each other, the Grimleal had been grinning from ear to ear like a madman. What Martin could hear now only served as confirmation.

"I'll give you credit, you're one of the sneakiest bastards I've ever had the pleasure of hunting!" The invader said between bursts of laughter. "It'll almost be a shame to see this end! All I need to do is find you…hah, got you!"

The yell caught Martin off-guard, but there was nothing to suggest he had any reason to be alarmed. In fact, it had sounded like the archer had been headed away, towards the captain's quarters…

Ah, shit.

Martin leapt over the crate, the sounds of a scuffle confirming what he had feared. The archer was at the door to the captain's cabin, preparing to bust it open. He must have heard Cainne and assumed that she was Martin. The tactician rushed the archer, who responded by shifting his attention and drawing an arrow. Already committed to the charge, Martin slid to his knees, letting the arrow fly overhead. Before the archer could take advantage of his exposed position on the ground, Martin had leapt up and closed the rest of the distance. Between the wall and his blade, the Grimleal had nowhere to go.

Then, the wall burst apart.

* * *

Aiden knew what was coming before Cainne had even leapt forward. Hundreds of hours spent sparring and fighting side-by-side meant he could read her like an open book. He rolled to the side, letting her crash past. Even then, he barely had time to get up before she was thrusting forwards with her lance. He parried two of the hits, counterattacking when she overextended herself trying for a third blow. Cainne, however, could read his moves just as easily. She swung her lance like a staff, hitting the back of his head with the shaft before he could capitalize on his position. Aiden backed away under her assault.

Things were made more complicated by the fact that Aiden didn't want to hurt her. She clearly wanted his blood, but he still was hoping he could convince her to consider his perspective. Stab wounds wouldn't do that for him. And so he played defensively, confident that she would tire and start slipping before she landed a hit.

Cainne thrust at him with an overhand grip, clearly trying to get him to block it so she could reverse her grip and strike him from below. Instead, he stepped back. But rather than switching back to her normal two-handed posture, Cainne followed through, launching her weapon like a javelin at him.

He hadn't expected the move, but he was able to react in time, batting away the impromptu and unwieldy projectile. However, he suddenly found himself staring down hundreds of pounds of angry Taguel. The kick he received almost sent him through the window. Instead, he slammed against the wooden wall, pain coursing through his body. An almost-instant transition from her lance to a beaststone? She'd picked up a few new tricks…

But as his head swam with pain, Aiden remembered that she hadn't been the only one. His hand slipped down to the spell book that was still in his robes. If he didn't act now, he was dead, or close to it.

"I'm sorry." He croaked out.

The magical attack struck Cainne with enough force to knock the Taguel off her feet and through the air. The combined force of the airborne Taguel and the spell shattered the wooden wall behind her, exposing the corridor beyond. For a brief moment, Aiden thought he recognized Borri and Martin staring back at him. Then the cost of the spell and the beating he'd recieved caught up with him, and he blacked out.

Martin stared in shock at the newly formed hole in the wall. The captain's quarters were visible beyond, utterly destroyed. Cainne, in bestial form, was sprawled out in the corridor, struggling to stand. Someone who looked a hell of a lot like Aiden was slumped against the far wall, next to a shattered window. Through that, he could just make out the hull of another vessel pulling alongside them.

The tactician ran to Cainne's side, trying to help her up. In the chaos, his opponent was able to grab his fallen comrade and scramble through the broken window. A bit of very familiar magic, wind used to move rather than attack, caught them, and they floated off into the night. Cainne eventually reverted back to her human form, hurt but alive.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked as soon as she seemed coherent enough to respond.

"I'm lucky he was always terrible with magic." She replied, grunting in pain.

"He?"

"We can worry about that later, once we know the ship is clear. Where are the others?"

Martin didn't know himself. They slowly made their way to the center of the ship, Cainne leaning on him. Shione was nowhere to be found, debris and rubble the only sign there had been a fight here. Slowly, they reached the ladder and ascended to the top deck.

Martin stepped into a chaotic scene. A dozen unfamiliar men walked the deck, including the one standing at the ship's wheel. Somehow, the captain of the ship had made his way here, and was conversing with who Martin had to guess was their leader. He and Cainne approached.

"Would someone mind explaining…well, everything?" Cainne grumbled.

"You live." The stranger answered. "I apologize for my sudden intrusion. I am Say'ri of the resistance here."

"Our pleasure." Martin replied. He recognized the name. "Not to be rude, but why are you here?"

"I can answer that." Lyta told him, stepping out of the shadows. "A Valmese patrol ship saw the fighting on deck and started to board us. Say'ri and her men boarded the ship to help us repel them." Then, the assassin lowered her head. "In the chaos, those Grimleal bastards commandeered the Valmese ship and got away. It's thanks to the resistance that we were able to sail at all."

"Aye." The captain of the ship spoke up. "Everyone who wasn't below is either dead or unconscious. These folk are the reason we're moving right now."

"I'm sorry, captain." Cainne answered. "The lost will be remembered." Then she turned to Say'ri. "But I still don't understand. Why did you help us?"

"I fear it was our actions that drew the attention of the Valmese to you in the first place. With the attack by these 'Grimleal' fueling the fire, they must have believed you were us. Whether or not this was true, they would likely have killed you. We could not allow this."

"Fantastic." Martin grumbled. "I guess it's a good thing we were planning on leaving anyway. Where the hell is Shione?" Say'ri pointed to a row of bodies on the deck. Resistance healers wove between them, tending to their injuries.

"I found him below and chased off his assailant. He is wounded, but he will survive."

"Most of us made it, then." The captain grunted. "Suppose the only thing to do now is let you folks off and head for home."

"And where is home?" Say'ri asked.

"Ragna Ferox, Ylisse." Lyta told the woman.

"Perhaps this was fate, then." Say'ri told them. "My people are determined, but we fight a losing battle. We have heard stories of the Ylissean league and your Shepherds. If you are returning to those lands, we would be in your debt if you could inform them of our plight. I fear the tyrant will turn his gaze to you all once he has dealt with us."

"I don't even think he'll wait that long." Cainne said. "We've seen it ourselves, he's assembled an invasion fleet. War is already on its way."

"Gods damn it all." Martin cursed under his breath. He knew Cainne was right. It had been two years. That had been their window of opportunity to find Aiden. "And there's still no sign of him."

"He was here." Cainne stated emotionlessly.

"What? Where-" Then Martin remembered the unconscious Grimleal Cainne had fought. "He's one of them? What the fuck is he-"

"Save it." Cainne cut him off. "There are bigger problems for us to face right now." Martin wasn't so sure, but he could sense the pain in Cainne's voice. He let the issue drop. Cainne turned to Say'ri, and nodded. They would carry her warning.

"If all goes well, you will have your aid." The Taguel told her. "For now, stay safe. We will do what we can." Martin nodded in agreement. But after everything they had been through that day, he was less and less confident they could really do anything.

* * *

The stone did not yield to his gaze. He hadn't expected that it would. Why would it now, when it had not for the past…how long had it been? In that time, he had been beyond the stone walls he gazed upon, but never on his own terms, never in the way he desired. The stone walls of this castle, a symbol of his power to so many, were a prison. The one thing he had been unable to change.

Soon, though, things would be different. His designs had started to bear fruit. And those that kept him trapped here would suffer.

"Surely you have better things to do than stare at the wall all day?"

"Who dares?" He turned to the speaker. A young man in a black coat…no, something far greater.

"I appreciate the warm welcome." the intruder told him. "And to answer your question, _I _dare. I am Grima."

"And what, Grima," He asked the intruder, "Do you seek here?"

"I do not seek anything you cannot easily provide." Grima answered, smiling. "Rather, I am here because of what we can provide each other. I believe that what we can do together would be worth more than any gift I could give you, or you me. Now then, shall we talk?"

* * *

_And on that note, we end the interlude. Since practically everything in this chapter was either self-explanatory or plot-relevant, and also since no one seems to care, no author's notes. I'll try to get the next chapter cranked out as quickly as this one. Now that the war with Valm can really begin, I'm excited for what's next._

_And again, review! Please, I'm begging you here. _


	16. Chapter 16: Old Friends, New Enemies

_Now, I know what you're saying. Surely this must be a mistake. There's no way that the author who can take months at a time to write a chapter managed to post two chapters in less time than is between episodes of [insert your favorite weekly series here]. But I did, somehow. I attribute this to a few things. First, I've been really pumped to write lately, and I've had the time to do so. Second, this chapter is shorter than usual. And third, events here are fairly simple, and I want to get to the next chapter pretty bad. So, I was able to crank this out in record time. And, yes, there will be author's notes this time. So give me a bit after I post this and check my profile if you're interested. Now here's hoping I can maybe keep up this pace for a few more chapters._

_Enjoy, and as always, review!_

* * *

The work of a tactician in peacetime was vastly different than in wartime, Robin had learned. Or at least, that was what had happened to him. The only other tactician he knew had gone running off on some errand to a different continent, so maybe Robin was an exception. Regardless, for the past few months he'd been helping Chrom and Sumia navigate legal, rather than actual, battlefields. While Ylisse's new royal family had plenty of allies, including Ragna Ferox and the influential dukedom of Themis, many others were eager to test Chrom's limits or see what they could get away with. Robin was no politician himself, but he had learned that long-term planning worked as well in a court room as it did in a map room. It helped that Chrom was a natural leader and that Sumia was incredibly adept at being charming. They'd managed to work their way out of quite a few messes together, with a little guidance from Robin. And that had been before the bouncing, blue-haired baby had shown up and solidified Chrom's position.

The child meant a lot to the Shepherds, of course. Though Chrom and Sumia were the proud parents, the rest of the group had spared no time in showering the new family with attention and the child with gifts. The little girl with the branded eye had proven to be a radiant bright spot in everyone's lives, Robin included. If he was being honest, young Lucina was the most adorable person he'd ever met, barring the unfortunate and rather messy side-effects of the child being only a few months old. But he also had to acknowledge that Chrom having an heir helped to solidify his position as a ruler. Chrom's position in the world made him a target, and there had been no end to the troubles the world faced after Gangrel's fall.

Plegia had only started to recover from the disastrous splintering of its leadership two years ago. A religious figure by the name of Validar had taken control of most of the nation, bolstered by war-torn refugees seeking solace in the Grimleal faith. Though Robin had his misgivings, the brief communications that Ylisse and Plegia had shared had been cordial, which was better than the cold war that had occurred during Gangrel's reign.

Meanwhile, word had spread that an emperor had arisen across the sea and successfully unified the Valmese continent. Some said this Walhart was the reincarnation of the hero who had first unified the continent, while others viewed him as a tyrant. Robin couldn't tell either way, seeing as Walhart's government had refused any contact with Ylisstol.

And judging by the messenger that had just shown up at Chrom's doorstep, more trouble was on its way.

"Prince Chrom, I come on behalf of Khan Regnant Flavia." The messenger, a woman in heavy plate armor, kneeled before Chrom. Robin thought he recognized her from somewhere, though it took him a few moments to recall that she had been the border guard to assault them years ago, mistaking them for bandits. My, how things had changed.

"Flavia?" Chrom asked. "Well, this is a surprise. Is something amiss?"

"I fear so, milord." The messenger answered, her expression grim. "The Khan requests your presence at a summit as soon as you're able."

"What's happened?"

"Our western neighbors of Valm are no longer acting so neighborly." The messenger replied. "The emperor, who they name the Conqueror, has launched warships against us." Robin groaned quietly from his desk near the door. So much for diplomacy.

"An invasion?" Chrom asked, maintaining a calm demeanor. "Are you certain of this?"

"Yes, milord. The Khan hopes to meet with you in Ferox, if it pleases you."

"What do you make of this, sire?" Frederick, ever present, spoke up.

"Ill business to be sure. Raimi, we will meet with Flavia at once." Robin agreed with the idea, thankful that Chrom had remembered the woman's name. That was why he was in charge, and not Robin…well, one of many reasons. Frederick saw Raimi out the door, returning as soon as she was gone.

"Chrom…" Sumia caught her husband's attention. Robin stifled a grin, fully aware of what was about to happen.

"I'd stay with you if I could, Sumia, but we owe Ragna Ferox a great debt." Chrom told her, misreading the situation as usual. He was a good diplomat, but sometimes he was a little naïve. "I must apprise myself of the facts there before deciding on a course of action."

"I'm not asking you to stay here with me, I'm saying I'm coming with you." She told him with certainty. Robin was already figuring out the Shepherd's available air force in his head. With Captain Cordelia, who would no doubt come, they'd have two pegasi available. The new recruits, unseasoned as they were, would likely remain on patrol here or at the Northern outpost under Thaneta. One of the others, Shione, would have technically fallen in with them, but Robin listed him as an unknown variable due to his current absence and prior experience.

"B-but Lucina is newly born!" Chrom scrambled, unaware he'd lost the moment Sumia opened her mouth. "She needs her mother now."

"Can she not be wet-nursed as you and Lissa were? That is House Ylisse's tradition, is it not? Lucina is a strong child; she takes after her father. The Brand in her left eye is not your only gift to her."

"I'm worried about more than our child." The prince finally admitted. "I'm worried about you."

"That's sweet. But I'm still coming." Sumia smiled at her husband, and Robin knew it was over. They were an adorable couple, truly in love with each other, but something about navigating political circuses had left her with a talent for using her charm to get her way. Robin was even starting to think the stumbling that characterized the pegasus knight had been a calculated move to draw his attention, way back when. In issues such as this, Chrom was putty in her hand. Evidently, Chrom knew this.

"...I know better than to argue once your mind is made." He eventually conceded.

"Wow, Sumia really has you trained well!" Lissa, creeping out from a far corner, laughed, before imitating the sound of a cracking whip.

"Lissa—you're not helping." The poor prince had already accepted that he could keep no secrets from his little sister. "Just promise me you'll return at the first sign of danger, Sumia. Lissa and I had Emm of course, but we lost our parents when we were young. I want Lucina to grow up with her whole family around her."

"I'll be careful. I promise."

"I will ride ahead and assemble an escort, milord." Frederick mercifully ended the "argument" before Chrom was humiliated further- or worse, before they began making up to each other.

"Thank you, Frederick." Chrom smiled wearily at his wife. Robin decided he should probably leave them alone. Before he left, though, Chrom needed some cheering up.

"I'm quite impressed, Chrom." The tactician stated. "You make a fine ruler. You've come a long way from tending sheep!" Not that he believed the Shepherds had ever actually tended sheep. As far as he knew, it was a metaphor for their job of safeguarding Ylisse's people. Chrom laughed at the joke.

"Have I truly changed so much?" The prince asked, still chuckling. Robin paused for a moment, thinking.

"In a way, you haven't." the tactician finally answered. "But you've grown as a leader, and, of course, as a father." And he meant it. Ever since their first meeting in that field…he was proud to call Chrom a friend.

"I've tried to do my best. My sister left a weighty legacy. I do all I can just to live up to it." Chrom smiled, but Robin knew he still hurt from Emmeryn's loss.

"I'm sure Emmeryn would be proud. She might even appreciate that you let your wife have her way so often." Robin replied, before turning on his heel and walking out of the room as quickly as possible. Chrom was left grumbling in his wake.

* * *

Shione had been having a pleasant dream when the ship's bell woke him. It had been about wyverns, he thought…or maybe dragons. Giant birds? Something that flew, and he had been…well, it was gone now, replaced by the incessant ringing from above. He rolled out of his bunk, strapping on equipment and grabbing his weapon. He was far from the only person to have been spurred into action; the ship's crew scurried through the corridors and up to the top deck. Shione supposed he needed to follow them and see what was up.

He stepped off the ladder and into absolute chaos.

The deck was alive with movement. Though sea spray and a thin layer of fog had obscured their vision somewhat, He could see why. The ship had reached its home of Port Ferox, and the crew had spent the last few days anxious to disembark. Now, though, it became apparent that they had not been the only ones. Valmese military vessels, much faster than the small freight ship Shione sailed on, had reached the port and were laying siege. The city was surrounded by a small blockade of ships, likely serving as the vanguard for the invasion Shione and the others had seen in Valm. Smoke, only a slightly darker color than the overcast sky above, rose from some parts of the city.

"Helmsman, keep us away from that fleet!" The captain roared. "We get too close and we're done for!"

"Aye, sir!" was the response.

"If you have any good ideas, now'd be the time." The captain told Cainne and Martin, already on the deck and appraising the situation.

"I'd guess they're trying to establish a beachhead, a port for the main fleet to land at." Martin answered. "They only want the city."

"Captain, may we borrow one of your rowboats?" Cainne asked. "We can get ashore without endangering your vessel or your crew. Then we'll deal with the Valmese."

"Aye, but I won't be sending any of my crew. They've seen enough hardship."

"Fair enough. Just get us close to the shore, and we'll take care of everything."

Half an hour later, as Shione's oar cut the water for the umpteenth time, he regretted everything. It wasn't that he couldn't do this– battlefield conditioning had kept him in good shape- but it was even more monotonous than standing guard in Ylisstol. At least then he'd had a proper mount. There'd been no room in the rowboat for a horse, so Shione would be marching with the rest of them.

The coastline in this part of the world was rough, shaped by the unyielding forces of nature. Rocks and boulders broke up small, gravelly beaches. Shorelines composed entirely of rock slabs bore the brunt of rough waves crashing into them, spray kicking up into the air. Port Ferox was where it was solely because it had to be the only sizable open beach within miles.

They soon ran aground, fortunately. Martin had chosen a small, rocky beach to the north of Port Ferox, out of view of the Valmese in these conditions but not too far a walk. From here, the sounds of battle echoed across the open water.

As they entered the city, Shione was surprised by how little damage it had actually suffered. If Martin's predictions were correct, then that made sense. The Valmese wanted a functioning port to unload troops and supplies, not a smoking crater. But it seemed like no soldiers had even made it into the city. Beyond the occasional rock from a sea-based siege weapon, the town was deathly quiet.

"The Feroxi are defending at the port." Martin guessed. "Whoever is in charge has done a good job of stopping the invaders. With the limited space available for the troop ships to dock, the Valmese have only so many men to use at any one time. The rest of the ships are stuck floating out in the ocean."

"What's to stop them from sending more after we get rid of the first ships?" Shione asked.

"Well, if they're any smart, the commander won't touch the ships themselves. He can leave them docked and unoccupied. The enemy commander would have to burn or sink them to be able to land more troops, unless that want to risk landing on the shore. And the rocky coastline in the region will split up the troops and prevent the Valmese from using siege weaponry or other big equipment in an assault. Plus, if the Valmese are acting like usual, the commander is leading from the front. Since a good chunk of an army that size is probably conscripted, they'll likely stand down once the loyal ones are dead."

"So why attack here in the first place?" Shione aksed. "They seem to have set themselves up for failure."

"I don't think they were expecting resistance to be this heavy." Martin answered. "This was a small trade port in the middle of nowhere. What few guards were here would be better equipped to fight pickpockets, not an invading army. Ragna Ferox has a sizable standing army, but they wouldn't normally have been able to react quickly enough to stop the valmese before they took the city. Then, Walhart has the numbers advantage if he can get the rest of his fleet landed. Once the Feroxi are out of the game, Ylisse has lost a major ally. They'll be easier to deal with. Then he can sweep in and deal with Plegia."

"He needs to win in Ragna Ferox." Cainne added. "Most of his men wouldn't likely be happy to face the Shepherds in the first battle of the war, so Ylisse wasn't an option, not without some infrastructure and the morale of a victory supporting his troops. Ylise has no major ports, either, so he would have a hard time landing his troops. He ultimately wants to defeat the Grimleal, so I imagine he wants to build up strength and territory before marching on Plegia. Civil war or no, the desert would be harsh for Valmese cavalry, and it wouldn't be wise to pick a fight with a rich, militaristic nation so early on. It'd just give the Plegians something to rally against."

"Well, then we stop him here." Shione surmised. "I wonder who's in charge of the defense?"

* * *

"Oh, of course it's you." Martin groaned in mock displeasure. Then he reached out and clasped Robin's outstretched hand with a grin. "I should have known you'd be the one keeping Valm at bay."

"So you're aware of the situation, then?" Robin asked.

"Yes." Cainne answered. "Though I am surprised you had time to prepare your defenses so thoroughly."

"We've known they were coming for about a week." Robin told them. You all, though…you were in Valm, were you not?"

"That would be correct." Martin replied. "We left just before these wonderful folks attacking the docks. They must have passed us at some point, though, and now apparently you don't need our warning."

"So it seems. For the moment, the situation is under control." Robin told them. "Shepherds are stationed at key chokepoints, keeping the Valmese out of the city. Basilio is leading a sizable portion of the Feroxi Army from an encampment to the east, in anticipation of the greater invasion force."

"I'm surprised you're not involved." Martin said to Robin. "You're usually in the middle of battle by now, not holed up at a command post far away."

"It's not that surprising." Robin responded, stepping out of the tent he had been reading maps in. "After all, this is one of those chokepoints." He gestured to their surroundings. Signs of battle were clearly visible upon closer inspection.

"So where are the Valmese?" Cainne asked.

"That's what I want to know." Prince Chrom interjected, strolling over to them. "It's good to see you all. I fear we will be needing all the help we can get soon enough. After the initial assault, the Valmese commander withdrew his troops. They've since established a perimeter around the ground they've captured and are holding there."

"They're bringing in reinforcements, I'd imagine." Robin guessed. "We knew these troops were just the vanguard for the main force, but our information suggested there were more. Walhart has thousands at his disposal. The attacking force right now should be larger than it is."

"They wouldn't be able to do anything with those extra troops unless they captured the city, though." Martin spoke up. "Right? At least, not without giving us the terrain advantage."

"I'm not so sure." Robin admitted, but said nothing else.

"Is diplomacy an option?" Shione inquired.

"Not unless the Conqueror himself is on one of those ships." Chrom replied. "Besides, the villagers here tried that before we arrived. One was told to give everything they had to Walhart, along with their loyalty and the Fire Emblem. When he tried to protest, the dog cut him down."

"Sounds like a reasonable fellow, asking a random fisherman for the holy relic of another country…" Shione commented. "Just charming."

"In any case, the battle is far from over." Chrom told them. "We're glad to have your help. You should go meet up with everyone else. They'd appreciate the news."

* * *

Cainne was still in a daze after the disastrous mission to Valm, but she was at least in better shape then she had been. She'd spent the whole trip back reliving her encounter with Aiden, and although she still did not understand or approve of his actions, she could at least admit to herself that it hadn't been a nightmarish fever dream.

What she really needed was something to distract her from her own twisted personal life, like living vicariously through someone else until she got her head straight. Fortunately, she knew just the people. They were leaning against a wall at the moment, staring out at the sea and discussing something quietly.

"Pardon the intrusion, but Chrom wanted us to officially rejoin the Shepherds." She spoke loudly enough that they noticed her before she could be accused of eavesdropping. "It's good to see you both."

"Oh, you've returned." Panne greeted her nonchalantly.

"And you're still acting like you don't care about the rest of us, I see." Cainne answered, smiling. For once, Panne returned the smile. "And well met, Sir Frederick. I would have expected you to be by the prince's side right now."

"I assure you, Cainne, I am equally surprised by this turn of events." Frederick returned her greeting. "Alas, milord seems to be spending so much time with Lady Sumia that he does not need someone to watch over him as closely as I have in the past."

"Meaning Chrom eventually grew tired of his watchfulness continually disturbing their time together and suggested that he relax." Panne explained.

"You wound me." Frederick said to the Taguel, before continuing. "Normally, a simple event like the marriage of my liege would not be enough for me to forsake my duties. I would gladly have expanded my protection to cover the whole of the royal family, and I still consider them my responsibility. But I find lately that I have been similarly occupied myself." The look he gave Panne was full of meaning to the pair, but Panne responded with indignation and, judging by the scarlet hue of her face, embarrassment.

"Frederick!" The Taguel whispered insistently. "I cannot believe I must say this, but regain your composure! You're babbling!"

"Oh, dear." The knight responded, concerned. "Was I not to speak of our engagement?" Panne simply buried her face in her hands.

"I suppose there's no helping it now." She mumbled. "Yes, Cainne, we are what the man-spawn might refer to as 'engaged'. Please tell me I do not have to explain the term."

"Don't worry, I am familiar with the concept." Cainne replied. "And congratulations, truly. If you do not wish for word of this to travel, I will keep your secret."

"It is fine…" Panne admitted. "Word was going to get out eventually. I'd rather someone I trust be the first to know. I am not even sure as to why I felt it needed to be a secret."

"Perhaps because you enjoy feigning indifference towards your comrades, regardless of how much you actually care for them?" Frederick suggested, a barely visible grin on his lips.

"Sometimes, I wish you weren't so honest about everything." Panne told him.

"If I were to lie, you would be able to tell." Frederick countered.

* * *

Battlefields in the middle of a lull were odd places to be. Everyone was a strange mix of at ease and tense, ready to fight for their lives in a moment but glad to enjoy not having to. Martin found a few of the Shepherds playing cards on top of a crate. He would have expected to see Gregor and Vaike doing something like this, but seeing Donnel there too was a surprise.

"Yikes, guys, corrupting a poor farm boy?" Martin approached. "Look, let me help. Deal me in." He made to sit down on one of the smaller boxes that the group had been using as chairs, but someone beat him to it.

"Sorry, but that's my seat! You can't have it!"

"Nowi?" Martin responded in confusion. "How is this a good idea?"

"She want to play cards with betrothed." Gregor answered. "Who am I to get in way of special bond between pig farmer and dragon?" Then, after a moment, he added. "Besides, she already promised not to torch cards if she has bad hand."

"Hey, I wouldn't do that..." The manakete pouted, brushing aside Gregor's comment. Martin noticed as she looked at her cards that there was in fact a ring on her finger. Her husband to be, meanwhile, was refusing to make eye contact with anyone at the table.

"C'mon, Donny, your hand can't be that bad!" Vaike laughed.

"Oh, uh, don't mind me. I'm just thinkin' about how my life got so strange. I wonder what Ma'd think If she saw me now." Martin had to agree, the lad had changed. He still wore a dinged up pot on his head, but his farmer's clothes had been replaced with a well-kept suit of armor, courtesy of the Shepherds. Martin knew he'd been training to fight ever since the war with Plegia had ended, and it seemed he had learned something, judging by the sword and axe that hung at his belt.

"I wouldn't worry, Donny." Nowi chimed in. "If she was surprised by anything, it would probably be me!" And there was that, Martin added.

"Hey, Vaike." The tactician whispered, finding a seat next to the fighter. Before I go blundering into any awkward situations, are there any other…err, couples that I should know about?"

"If yer looking for gossip, you've come to the right teacher!" Vaike responded, cracking his knuckles before leaning down close to Martin's ear. "From what I hear, Miriel's decided that she needs to 'study' Stahl, something about how remarkably average he is that spiraled a bit out of control. For a solid week, I thought that Sully had lost it and started talking to herself, until she and Kellam announced they were a thing. Gaius thinks Olivia is sweet, but unsurprisingly no one has had the guts to say something yet. Lon'qu somehow managed to get over himself long enough to propose to Maribelle, which was a shock. I'm still waiting for our next duel, but I guess he has 'more important' things to consider. And Lissa must have felt left out after being around the royal family so much, because she has a boyfriend. But don't tell Ricken I know, or Chrom for that matter. The kid just worked up the nerve to ask before this whole thing started, and I'd feel bad if Chrom started grilling him about it. Oh, and it seems like Libra has spent an awful lot of time with our resident creepy dark mage. I'd guess that it's just for one of her experiments, but professional relationships only seem to go so far in this group."

"Wow." Martin eventually responded. "How do you know so much about, well, everyone?"

"Who knows a classroom better than the teacher?" Vaike answered, no longer trying to speak quietly. "The Vaike watches his pupils. The Vaike learns, and the Vaike knows many things as a result. For example, I know Gregor's been slipping cards up his sleeves this whole time."

"What?" The mercenary responded, indignant. "How dare you question Gregor's honor? If anyone has been doing the cheating at this table, it would be you!"

"I don't have sleeves, buddy." The Vaike answered.

* * *

"Captain!" Shione wasn't too fond of having to check in with a superior, but at least she was a good superior. "Reporting in."

"And here I thought we had enough trouble to deal with." Cordelia replied. "I take it whatever errand Chrom assigned to you is now finished?"

"To the contrary, I'm still watching over my charges. But my charges are all here, so…" He let the thought trail off unfinished, noticing Cordelia's company. "And that would be the trouble?" He asked quietly.

"You guessed it." The elder pegasus knight responded. "May I introduce Duke Virion of Rosanne and his vassal, Cherche? We should be working on integrating her and her wyvern into our tactics, but I cannot get a word in edge-wise with Virion around. If he isn't flirting, he's babbling…sometimes both."

"I'll deal with it." Shione told her. "I know his type. You just need to tell them what they want to hear." Then, he approached the pair.

"Duke Virion, what a pleasure!" Shione gushed, bowing deeply. "Truly, you honor us with your presence."

"You see, Cherche?" Virion smiled at his companion. "The Shepherds know how to react to someone of my standing!"

"Need I remind you that we are here for the purpose of reclaiming the lands that were stolen from you?" Cherche replied. "…meaning that you currently have no standing?"

"But that is where you are wrong, my dear. Though I may not possess that which should be mine as duke of Rosanne, it is my character, my wit, and my charm which Shione here respects. He treats me with dignity, unlike a certain vassal who seems all too fond of interrupting-"

"Lady Cherche, it is nice to meet you." Shione interrupted the archer, aware of what letting him keep going would mean.

"Ha! I believe the pleasure is all mine, sir." The wyvern rider responded. "Though I wonder if you came here for more than pleasantries."

"The detachment of pegasus riders present would like to coordinate their efforts with you, if at all possible. They would appreciate a meeting is soon as is convenient."

"Very well, I shall go with all haste. Thank you for the message." With that, Cherche walked away, leaving Virion quite flustered. Shione, too, decided it was time to make his exit.

"That didn't exactly sound like what Virion wanted to hear." Cordelia remarked to him as he returned.

"Oh, I knew Virion was never going to actually let me get a word in unless I stopped him. I was telling Cherche what she needed to hear, not Virion."

"Hmm, and they call me a genius." Cordelia laughed. Shione took notice.

"I wouldn't disagree with this 'they', whoever it is."

"Oh, that's right, you were never there for that." Cordelia remembered. "It seems like you've been with us forever, but it hasn't been all that long, has it? Everyone in the old squadron used to call me 'genius' when I was a recruit. I thought it was their way of disparaging me for a long time, but then they were willing to sacrifice themselves when…well, you know how that all worked out. Now that I've been promoted, I thought that my old acquaintances would just mock me more, but they seem genuinely happy for me. I never really noticed how much they cared until now. Looking back, it all seems so silly."

"I've always heard leadership gives you a new perspective." Shione answered. "But you deserve it, trust me. And I'm being as sincere as possible when I say you're an absolute genius."

"Yes, well, leadership is a lot more of a headache than anything else." Cordelia told him. "And trying to flatter your superior officer won't get you promoted any quicker, soldier."

"Gods, at least use my name." Shione cringed. "But what about helping you deal with those headaches of leadership? What would that do?"

"Oh, I can't have that." The captain replied. "We swore to be rivals, remember? It just wouldn't be fitting for the person I'm trying to beat to be the one to keep me sane."

"If I remember correctly, you told me you would be my rival, and I fell asleep...meaning I didn't agree to anything." Shione chuckled. "But sure, I'll just do my best not to make your job too much harder. And let me know if you need any more help with the world's most flamboyant archer."

"Gods, could you imagine anyone even more transparently flamboyant than that man?" Cordelia mused. "I can hardly stand the thought."

"Oh, but one other thing…you don't have a spare pegasus lying around, do you? Maybe a wyvern?"

* * *

"I thought you might be here."

Lyta continued to work on maintaining her bow, ignoring the speaker.

"And I know you can hear me. I'm not the sort to abide by idle chatter, so you must realize that I'm not here to be friendly. I'll wait as long as necessary for you to hear me out."

"If you're here to scold me some more, you can leave." Lyta responded. Nothing you have to say to me matters any more.

"How about: 'I'm sorry'?" Lon'qu replied.

"Why?" Lyta asked suspiciously.

"When we last spoke, I acted out. I directed anger, frustration, and sadness towards you that was not yours to bear. Though I may still disagree with you, I have since realized that the way I acted was not helpful for anyone."

"You were right, though." The assassin admitted. "I saw him…but I couldn't take the shot. He got away."

"Then perhaps there is still a chance at reconciliation between you." The swordsman suggested.

"Hey betrayed us, Lon'qu. It was even worse than I feared. He is now a legitimate threat to me and everyone I care about…but I don't know if I can do anything to stop him."

"I think I know how you feel at the moment. Your situation seems hopeless, and so you are content to avoid others and hide yourself away. I did the same. It is only recently that I have come to realize that I had reason to hope, if only I knew where to look."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Do not assume the worst when it has not happened. You may be right in your suspicions, or you may find that the truth is not what you had believed. Be open to both possibilities. Do not give up hope."

"It's not that easy to change." Lyta replied. When Lon'qu did not answer, she looked up. He had already gone. "But I suppose you know that better than most."

* * *

Chrom had been wondering what the Valmese were planning when the messenger arrived. They were Feroxi, from Basilio's detachment, and they looked like they had been through hell to get to him.

"Milord, news from the front!" They approached him urgently.

"The front? What do you mean?" Chrom asked. "This is the front."

"Not any more, milord!" the messenger replied, shaken. "Valmese warships landed under cover of the fog and engaged Khan Basilio's forces approximately ten minutes ago. They ran themselves aground rather than wait for a port. The Khan has positioned his men at the far side of the city to protect your flank, but he fears they may be overrun without support!"

"Gods damn it, they have us surrounded. What the hell are they planning?"

"Chrom!" Robin called out, running towards the prince as fast as his legs would carry him. "The Valmese at the docks are assembling!"

"Damn, they hope to break through at one side and crush the other. Robin, sound the call, have everyone prepare. We cannot fall here, Basilio depends on it. Shepherds, to battle!"

* * *

It was only moments later that the Valmese engaged the Shepherds. Martin and the other card-players found themselves fighting for their lives in an instant. Valmese cavalry charged across the docks, probing for gaps in the Shepherd's defenses. From somewhere nearby, arrows rained down on the enemy, but the Valmese did not stop. Gregor was the first to react out of the group, grabbing a throwing axe from his belt and hurling it at the lead knight. They raised their shield and the weapon bounced off ineffectively. The ball of dragonfire that hit next however, was more damaging. Martin, Gregor, and Vaike worked together, splitting up the cavalry formation between piles of shipping crates. Donnel had disappeared into the melee, but Martin wasn't worried: the farm boy had a dragon watching over him.

Martin threw bolts of lightning at his opponent, a cavalier that Vaike had split off from the group. Unlike the Risen or even the Plegians, these soldiers were disciplined and well-trained, so the tactician did not expect an easy fight. Indeed, the cavalier was not giving him one, using the speed of his mount to keep out of reach of Martin's blade. But Martin only had to keep the cavalier's attention for a few more moments.

"Gregor smash!" came a familiar cry, as the mercenary knocked the cavalier out of his saddle and struck them down. One target down, they looked for the next. Vaike however, was the one to catch their attention. The fighter was pinned by two of them, already bleeding from a shallow wound. Martin and Gregor rushed to his aid, each taking on one of the Valmese. Magic flew from Martin's fingertips, while Gregor tried another throwing axe. This time, the axe struck true, unhorsing onw soldier, who Vaike picked off. Martin's spell was less effective, but distracted the other foe for long enough that Martin was able to close the distance, and engage him with a blade. Moments later, that one fell too. The first wave of Valmese from the docks had broken. However, they had managed to injure the Shepherds, and more would come. This needed to end, quickly.

* * *

Cainne was in her element in this fight. The horses so favored by the Valmese were skittish in her presence, and instinct, honed by practice, had taught her where to strike to bring them down. But she wasn't worried about herself. The Valmese were doing their best to strike where the shepherds were most vulnerable, targeting undefended spellcasters and archers when they could. Though the Shepherds had plenty of well-armored soldiers to hold the line, they couldn't stop everyone. It was Cainne's job to defeat those who got through.

A cavalier fell to her claws before she switched forms and started harassing a mercenary. An arrow sprouted from his back, courtesy of Virion. The duke had his own problems as an enemy bow knight tried to snipe him in turn, but intervention from Gaius cut the foe down before they could aim accurately enough to hit the Shepherd's archer. The Shepherds were holding, but it was a tough fight. Cainne briefly wondered where their fliers were. Some support from them would have been preferable.

* * *

The duo of pegasus riders, bolstered by a pair of wyverns, soared just above the water. The odd formation was comprised of both of the Shepherd's pegasi and riders, Cherche and her mount Minerva, and Shione astride a wyvern commandeered from a Feroxi soldier who'd kept it as a pet after finding it in Plegia. Though Shione was by occupation a pegasus knight, he'd started his career on wyvern back rather than risk the notoriously picky temperament of a winged horse.

Archers were present on the decks of the Valmese ships, and the fliers flew close to the water in hopes of avoiding being targeted before they reached the target. Then, on Cordelia's signal, all four rapidly gained altitude, soaring directly over the deck of one of the ships. The men on board tried to react, but were unable to do anything before the airborne Shepherds dropped their cargo. Chrom, Robin, Lyta, and Miriel all landed on deck as the fliers climbed, high enough above that they were out of range.

The Shepherds on deck acted quickly, cutting through the unprepared archers and clearing the way for the fliers to back them up. Soon, battle raged on the deck of the ship. Shione and Lyta worked together, with the temporary wyvern knight harrying the foe and allowing Lyta to finish the distracted Valmese off.

"You," one roared as he attacked Lyta, "are nothing! A speck of sand on the boot of a great empire!" The shout was the only warning the assassin received of the threat behind her, but it was enough. She propelled herself off the deck, leaping over the paladin's strike. Shione reacted to the threat as well, sweeping overhead to catch the Valmese off guard.

Lyta launched arrow after arrow, but at this close range, they were less than effective, bouncing off the man's shield. She switched her aim to his mount, but he was on her before she could fire a shot. Shione's actions kept her alive, as the wyvern knight struck at the paladin from on high, keeping him off balance. That did not stop him from trying to strike the assassin, and he swung at Lyta again, but Shione's actions had bought her time to prepare. This time, she sidestepped the lunge and sank a knife into the gap between his arm plates. The paladin cried out in pain, dropping his blade and clutching at the knife in his elbow. The wyvern Shione rode unhorsed him by swooping overhead, and Lyta was able to finish the kill.

The deck was clear a minute later, and the remaining Valmese surrendered soon after. Robin's plan had been a success. The Valmese leader had been onboard this vessel before Lyta and Shione had finished him, and the surprise strike by the Ylisseans had shattered his command structure. True to the predictions of both tacticians, many of the rank and file Valmese had been conscripts, put in the Vanguard by Walhart to serve as cannon fodder and soften up the enemy for the Conqueror's main force to break. Without someone telling them to fight and die for their country at swordpoint, very few were willing to do so. But this battle had not been easy. The foe the Shepherds faced was a dangerous one, something they had all learned the hard way.

* * *

"Chrom, is that all of them?" Robin asked as he watched the captured enemy soldiers shamble off. They would be treated fairly and held in Ragna Ferox until peace or their release could be negotiated.

"Yes, but victory's come with a price." The prince replied. Basilio, fresh from engaging the larger flanking force, nodded.

"The town is in shambles, as is my army." The Khan pointed out. The Feroxi regulars had fared worse than the Shepherds out in the open. The Valmese cavalry had made full use of their mobility to tear through Basilio's lines, with some being able to sneak into the city. Unlike the first attack that morning, the second assault had not seemed to care about keeping Port Ferox intact.

"This is most troubling news." Frederick mused. "Feroxi soldiers are the finest east of the long sea. If they are having trouble, we are all in trouble."

"That's not the half of it." Flavia, who had led reinforcements to the town after hearing the initial reports, added. "This was just the vanguard—but a taste of the meal yet to come."

"And once it arrives, their host will wash over the whole continent in weeks." Basilio grimaced. "There's no way we could repel them and defend our people. It would be a slaughter."

"Ylisse is no better equipped to handle an attack from the sea..." Chrom pondered. He was right. They had counted on the Valmese making for a viable port, but if they didn't care whether they ran their ships aground and could not retreat, then Ylisse was under threat. "Robin, what do you suggest?" Robin hated being put on the spot, but he had been considering the matter himself for some time.

"Their greatest strength is their cavalry, which puts us at a disadvantage...on land. But if we were to catch them at sea..."

"But how?" Chrom asked, and rightfully so. "Ylisse has no warships, nor does Ferox."

"So we'd need aid from a kingdom that does..." Basilio trailed off, clearly considering something.

"You have someplace in mind, oaf?" The Khan-regnant asked.

"Perhaps a land that borders the sea, with enough wealth to afford this campaign?" Basilio asked rhetorically, grinning now.

"Plegia!" Robin guessed. Almost as quickly, Chrom responded.

"No. Absolutely not. Out of the question."

"They have gold, boy! Countless ships!" Basilio petitioned. "And more importantly, we have a fart's chance in the wind without them."

"The oaf is right." The reigning Khan added. "Crude, but right. There's only one path forward."

"Having seen their fleet, I have to agree." Cainne spoke up. "If we don't cut them off before they make landfall, we will all suffer for it."

"It also bears mentioning that there are quite a few people across the sea who are looking to the Shepherds for help." Martin added. As the leader and tactician of the group who had been to Valm, they had been allowed to sit in on the strategy meet. "We didn't have time to say anything before the attack."

"Who could possibly need our help?" Chrom asked, curious.

"Rebels. Walhart doesn't have the loyalty of everyone on the continent." There are quite a few dissenters, but they're scattered. They need something to rally behind, and Ylisse won't be safe until Walhart is dethroned. We need to get across the sea, and we need ships to do it."

"Chrom, will you reconsider?" Robin asked, finally.

"Very well." The prince finally gave in. "Send a messenger and request a summit immediately. Let us pray this new king is more reasonable than their last."

* * *

_And with that, the chapter introducing Valm as the new major enemy is done. This one was short, simple, and to the point, because there are a lot more big things yet to come. Also, as I'm a US citizen and the election is nigh, I am somewhat worried that the country will spontaneously combust as soon as a winner is selected, and I wanted to let you all know one last time that I died as I lived…sitting around at a computer. _

_As I said, author's notes will be up soonish, because I actually have things I want to talk about this time around. Because I haven't done them for a bit, it will sort of be a mashup of items to discuss regarding this one as well as items I forgot I wanted to discuss for previous chapters. _

_As always, please let me know what you think, thank you to the followers who keep me motivated, and if you're an American citizen, go vote! But please, don't try and start any political flamewars. I haven't checked, but if I have any ability to remove comments/reviews, I will exercise it in that case. _


	17. Chapter 17: Family Matters

_I think it's the month, really. November is National Novel Writing month or something, right? Maybe that's why I'm on a roll. Or maybe it's because I've been excited for this chapter forever, for various reasons. This one is fairly lengthy, too, so I hope you enjoy._

* * *

Aiden clutched his stomach as the world rocked and shook around him. It hadn't stood still for a week now, and showed no signs of ever ceasing its dizzying motion.

He hated travel by ship.

But, if he was honest, sea sickness wasn't the only thing that had made his gut feel like a lead weight. He'd seen Cainne again for the first time in two years, but the reunion had not been a happy one. She'd been angry and frustrated, but even more so had been disappointed in him. Whether or not she cared about him anymore, he still cared for her, and it had been painful to see her react that way. But the worst part was the ever-present dread that she was right.

He had known from the beginning that the Grimleal were not good people. He'd planned on manipulating the cult from within, which hadn't been an easy task to begin with. But in the time he'd spent with his cell, he'd wound up doing something else entirely: trusting them. Cera, Borri, and even Jered to an extent had become his comrades-in-arms, maybe even friends. He'd thought that certain individuals were maybe not so bad after all, like the old priest who'd been doing charity work.

But reality had come crashing in. Aiden had seen Borri's true self revealed and had been repulsed by what he found. He'd been forced to fight his own friends, people who he cared for and had once cared for him. And he'd started to question what he himself had become.

Aiden did not like the answers he had found.

Whatever his intentions, he had acted as a Grimleal agent for the past two years. He had, for all intents and purposes, been Grimleal, with all the beliefs and horrible acts that came packaged with the title. He had come no closer to his original goals, as far as he could tell. And he'd driven away people he had once trusted with his life. And so the swordsmaster lied on the cot in his cramped cabin, watching the walls spin in time with his head.

"You've been down here for days." The sound of someone easing open his door roused Aiden from his introspection. Cera was looking at him with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He responded, waving her away. "Just seasick."

"Alright, then." She told him. "I just wanted to let you know that we received new orders."

"Aren't we already on a mission?"

"Yeah, but these are for afterwards." The mage answered with a sad smile. "Once we complete this task, the cell is being split up."

"What?" Aiden was shocked.

"It was inevitable. Cells don't stay together forever, that's why recruitment and initiation are so important. You'll be reassigned to where the Grimleal needs you most, maybe even leading your own teams. Two years isn't a bad run for a cell, and we accomplished plenty. They've probably been thinking we all have enough experience under our belts to move on, and just used our only failed mission as an excuse to reassign us."

"Damn…" Aiden stared at the ceiling. "Well, maybe it's for the best."

"Not the answer I was expecting." Cera sighed. "Look, I know you aren't just seasick. Something's eating at you."

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with." Aiden replied. "I'll be mission ready by the time we land."

"Which is fine, but you aren't getting rid of me that easily. We're friends, and you were the one who said that friends help each other." She moved into his room, leaning up against the wall and looking at him. "So, tell me." Aiden looked at her for a long moment, knowing that she was not going to leave without something.

"Fine. I'm just…well, I don't know what to believe anymore." He finally answered. "Why am I here, why am I part of this?"

"Well, if you were to ask most Grimleal, they'd give you some line about fate." Cera told him. "But I know a crisis of faith when I see one, and a prepackaged slogan is not exactly helpful in this case. Sometimes, it really isn't about what you believe in, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Aiden asked. "Don't you believe what the Grimleal teach?"

"Yes, with all my heart. But it didn't start out that way." Cera explained. "I never told you why I can't walk, did I? The truth is I don't know myself. But if I had to guess, I'd say it had to do with my childhood. When I was growing up, the old war between Ylisse and Plegia was in full swing. Both my parents were lost to the conflict…I never really knew them well. So I grew up on the streets, fighting for my own survival. I didn't have anything you'd call a friend, so I could only really trust myself. It was hard finding food. It was hard finding anything, really. With the war going on, everything was being diverted to the troops, and so the rest of us suffered. I scrounged what I could, but I went to sleep hungry more often than not. I think something about growing up on conditions like that affected my development, because after a few years my legs had atrophied and I couldn't feel anything anymore."

"I'm sorry." Aiden answered. "That must have been horrible."

"It was bad, but it was also years ago. And as you can see, I got better." The mage replied with a grin. "Eventually, a family noticed me trying to steal from them…not an easy thing to do when you can barely move. They took pity on me and bought me a loaf of bread. I found out later that they were Grimleal priests in charge of the city's shrine. They made sure I was fed and clothed, that I had a place to sleep at night. They taught me everything they knew. Eventually, I formally joined the Grimleal, intending to follow their example and pay them back for their kindness. They turned out to be relatively influential and managed to help me get off to a good start, despite my handicap. Then I started to learn magic, and…well, the rest is history. But I didn't join because of faith in the Fell Dragon. I joined because, for the first time, I had a family. I had people who cared for me and made me feel like there was something more to life than just begging on the street. So I guess my point is: look for that family, whoever it may be. That's how you'll know you're where fate wants you to be."

"I…thanks, Cera." Aiden sat up. Even though she couldn't understand what he was going through, talking with her had slowed the maelstrom of his thoughts.

"And one more thing." Cera flashed him a broad grin. "Even if they split us up, you're still my friend, got it? I'm not letting you go that easily."

"Deal." Aiden replied, unable to keep himself from smiling in return.

* * *

"The Shepherds draw near, my lord." Aversa bowed to him in deference.

"Good, it is as was foretold." Validar replied. Grima had informed him that they would come to him for help some time ago. And now, here they were. Though he was not particularly fond of this outpost on Carrion Isle, it was a fitting meeting place. The palace, after all, was too close to many vital operations that the Shepherds needed not know about. "What of the agents you sent for?"

"They will be arriving before nightfall." She answered. I will have them in place by tonight."

"Then I leave it to you to set whatever plans you have in motion." Validar told her. "I believe it is about time to end this charade, don't you agree?"

"Quite, my lord." She grinned. "Shall I let our guests in?" Her liege nodded, and she disappeared from sight. A minute later, she had returned, with their guests in tow.

"An honor to finally meet you, sire." The Plegian King greeted the Ylisseans with grace and dignity. "I am Validar, king regnant of Plegia."

"The honor is mine, good king." The prince replied in turn, a strange look on his face. "Is it possible we've met before some...gods! It can't be."

"Oh ho, I'm quite certain I would remember any encounter with Ylissean royalty." And he did. But the young prince did not need to know that, though Validar imagined that Chrom was even then trying to solve the mystery. He could have served to be more subtle when whispering to his aide, however. "And you must be Sir Robin."

"You know of me, sire?" the boy replied. Again, Validar did, and again, the boy did not need to know the full story.

"The whole world knows of Ylisse's master tactician!" Validar answered, acting the part of the showman to the best of his ability. "And indeed, I see the sparkle of wisdom in your eyes." But rather than a response, the prince and the tactician continued to whisper to each other. It was really quite rude. "My, the negotiations haven't even begun and already so much whispering..."

"My apologies, King Validar." The Ylissean prince recovered. "We meant no disrespect."

"Then let us get to it." Validar allowed the transgression to pass. He motioned to Aversa.

"Plegia can offer no soldiers, but will provide 800 warships and 200 transports." She stated. "In addition, we would be pleased to fully fund the campaign against Valm."

"That is...surprisingly generous of you, milord." The prince's bodyguard said, almost succeeding in hiding his shock. "We could not ask for more, quite literally. You offer most all your assets..." In truth, the Grimleal had more than this knight could know. What Validar offered had been meant from the beginning to be used in this moment. But Validar could not act like that was the case.

"I would give troops as well, but our army remains in shambles from the last war. I trust the gold and ships will suffice as a sign of our commitment to the cause?"

"Of course it will. Thank you, King Validar." Prince Chrom bowed his head.

"The honor is ours, my prince." Validar returned the gesture. "I look forward to building a strong bond between our two nations." That the Ylisseans and Valmese would wipe each other out was merely an added benefit.

"As do I. Then, if there's nothing else? My men and I must hurry back to Port Ferox."

"Oh, so soon?" Aversa blocked their exit. "But I have one more introduction to make."

"Yes? And who would that be?" The Ylissean, confused but ever-respectful, inquired.

"A hierophant, the highest of his/her order in all Plegia." Validar told the prince. The hierophant in question approached the group, cloak drawn low over his face. The title had once belonged to himself, actually, but he had been more than willing to grant it to the more deserving individual who currently bore it. After all, who was Validar to deny his own god?

"So you lead the people in worship?" Young Robin tried to break the ensuing silence. "We were just discussing religion earlier…I'm sorry, have I said something to offend you?"

"The heart still sleeps, but the blood flows through it. And the blood is strong..." was the response. Even to Validar, it seemed an odd phrase. For Robin, who had not the slightest clue as to who he was talking to, it must have been perplexing indeed.

"Huh? Beg pardon, were you talking to me?"

"Good hierophant, I would ask you lower your cowl." The knight attempted to clarify the situation. "In Ylisse, it is a courtesy expected of one in the presence of royalty." As Validar had expected. How perfect.

"You are a long way from Ylisse, sir." The hierophant said after a pause, turning to face the knight. "...But very well...is that better?"

"What?!" Was the predictable response of the man who faced his own doppelganger. The others in the room acted with similar shock, but Validar was honestly only interested in Robin's reaction. "He looks just like...me."

"My name is Robin." The hierophant lied. Well, it wasn't truly a lie…more of a half-truth. "Oh and that was _your_ name as well, wasn't it? What a strange coincidence..."

"Why that _is_ rather curious, now that you mention it..." Validar played along. "What are the odds? In any case, I believe we are finished here. We will let you be on your w-"

"Hold just one moment!" Chrom tried to regain control of the situation, unaware of how his actions only served to draw him deeper into the web.

"Milord?" Aversa replied with an innocence that did not suit one who had done what she had.

"What is the meaning of this? Why do your hierophant and Robin-"

"I'm afraid we've no time for such trivial matters now, Your Highness. We have aid preparations to attend to, and you have a long, hard journey ahead..." She hurried them out the door. "Oh, and do be careful on your way back to Port Ferox. This time of year the highroads of Plegia can be quite treacherous..." the Ylissean party was all but forced out, reeling. As Aversa returned, Validar allowed himself to smile.

"A fine work of deception, my servant." Grima approached, clapping slowly. "Masterfully done."

"You, my lord, were equally adept." Validar humbly replied. "Though I do find myself asking why you saw fit to grace them with your presence."

"As with the others, I wished to meet the boy." Grima answered. "Great potential still lies within him, I am glad to say. I imagine you also derived some satisfaction from finally being able to meet him."

"Indeed, my lord. Thank you for granting me this opportunity."

"Do not thank me yet, for there is work yet to be done." Grima told his servant. "I want you to visit him tonight. Tell him the truth of his heritage, if you wish, and see if he can be manipulated as easily as I remember. If so, then our task becomes that much easier. Even if he cannot, it will surely set him off balance. And without him, the rest of the Ylisseans will fall."

"It will be done, my lord." Validar, king of Plegia, bowed to his superior.

* * *

Martin stared at the stars, unsure why he was awake in the first place. Sleep had not come despite his best efforts, and so he watched the night sky, hoping that the peaceful movement of the heavens would eventually cause him to drift off.

Instead, he found himself mentally checking over the Shepherd's battle plans. He knew this was a trap. Though Chrom had no reason to recognize the name Validar, Martin had plenty. Thankfully, Chrom and Robin had been almost as wary of the situation as he was, and had readily agreed to increasing the fortifications around the camp. They were situated in the center of a valley, forcing any attackers to approach in the open or try to scale the cliff walls. Sentries watched every known approach. In fact, Martin himself was to start his shift in a few hours, which was why he wanted to get some sleep now.

But would their preparations be enough? The cliff walls would funnel any attackers into a few main avenues, yes, but a clever foe would also station ranged soldiers along them. The distance to camp from either of the cliff faces was sufficiently far enough that most archers would have trouble making the shot, but Martin was concerned nevertheless. The low drone of someone's conversation off in the distance did not exactly help the tactician get to sleep, either. It was only when the barely audible words being spoken dissolved into screaming that Martin realized something was wrong. He grabbed the blade he kept by his bed roll and ran towards the sound.

"Robin! Are you all right? I heard shouting." Prince Chrom, already on the scene, was kneeling over the huddled form of the Shepherd's tactician. Martin was barely able to make out the vague shape of someone else as they fled beyond the light cast by the camp fire. Robin clutched at his head, convulsing.

"I-I think so…" He stammered out as he regained his wits. "Yes, Chrom, thank you. I'm…I'm fine."

"'Fine' is a poor choice of words!" Chrom exclaimed. "What's happened!?"

"And who the hell was that?" Martin inquired, trying to find some trace of the unknown assailant. From the look Chrom gave him, Martin momentarily feared that he had been the only one to see the stranger before they had vanished.

"King Validar," Robin answered. "He…he spoke to me…in my mind. He said I was his…his son." The explanation worried Martin. Validar had been here? What had he been doing to Robin, and more importantly, why?

"Yeah, well, we've established he isn't the most trustworthy person around." Martin gave up the search, knowing he wouldn't find anything. "He's probably trying to confuse you."

"Agreed." Chrom nodded. "It can't be true…can it?"

"I don't know." Robin answered, mulling it over. "But I also don't know it's a lie. Loath as I am to say it, I felt a…a strange connection between us."

"True or not, it doesn't mean his motivations aren't the same." Martin stated. "What is he planning?"

"That hierophant doppelganger…could he be the king's son, as well? Are you twins?" Chrom mused.

"Doppelganger?" Martin inquired. "When did that happen?"

"In the negotiations…" Robin explained. "Validar brought out someone who looked exactly like me…they even claimed to share my name."

"That doesn't sound like a twin to me." Martin replied. "They don't usually have the same name." No, it was no twin. But it did sound a hell of a lot like Grima himself making an appearance. But that bastard had been in Valm! How had he…no, it made sense. Martin and the others had made the trip, it was only reasonable that a god could do it faster.

"I... I'm sorry, Chrom. I can't remember..." Robin shook his head. "But if I'm being honest...it would explain much... I'm not even sure I want to know the truth of my past anymore..."

"You are yourself before you are any man's son." Chrom comforted his friend. "Remember that."

"And it could always have been worse." Martin joked. "You could've inherited the unhealthy gray skin and general creepiness." Fortunately, Robin smiled weakly.

"Thank you, both of you."

"Can you walk?" The prince asked, offering him a hand up.

"Yes…" Robin took the hand and pulled himself up, gingerly moving forward. "Yes, I think so."

"Come on, then." The prince replied. "We should take you to see a healer." Martin would have followed them, but something moved just at the edge of his peripheral vision. A bush had moved slightly. It could have been the wind or an animal, but Martin was on edge. He drew his weapon and approached.

"Hold!" the one who'd been watching from the bushes stood up, hands in the air. "It's just me."

"Well, hello Marth." Martin greeted the warrior. "I don't suppose you've seen any Plegian kings pass by?"

"No, unfortunately." She told him. "I heard the disturbance, just as you must have, and came to find out what it was. By the time I arrived, Validar had already fled.

"And yet you still watched us struggle to piece everything together." Martin replied, noticing that she knew what had happened. ""You could have offered to help."

"I wouldn't have been able to provide much in the way of aid." She responded. "Besides, it's best if I keep to observing from afar for now."

"Yeah, well, whatever works for you. Why are you here, anyway?"

"I wanted to…keep an eye on you all." She avoided his gaze. "It seemed like you were walking into a trap."

"You know, you could still watch over us and skip all this sneaking around by just signing up with the Shepherds." Martin told her. "I've seen the rosters, we have room."

"I appreciate the thought, but I couldn't." She told him. "It would be better for everyone if I kept my distance."

"Well, if you want to 'keep your distance' in a useful way, go keep an eye on the prince and Robin. They'll be in the healer's tent." Martin gestured in the general direction of the structure. "Meanwhile, I'm going to check up on our sentries. Seems like everyone is on edge tonight."

* * *

Aiden tried to calm his nerves, to no avail. Upon their arrival in port, Cera's cell had discovered that a very important Grimleal had requested their services: Lady Aversa herself. Now, as she explained their mission, Aiden found that his fear of the woman and of being discovered were coming into conflict with the excitement that came with finally realizing the goals he had set when he first joined.

"You are here," The archmage began, "because you have all shown great promise serving the Fell Dragon. We know you will continue to do so in whatever way your next assignment allows, and to facilitate this, as well as to show our appreciation, it has been deemed appropriate that you are given a glimpse into the power that awaits Grima's favored servants." She addressed three of them, only. Cera stood to the side, expression unreadable behind her helm and the cover of darkness.

"I speak, of course, about the summoning of Risen." Aversa explained. Aiden's heart raced. This had been the ideal, the very reason he'd considered infiltrating the Grimleal in the first place. If he could summon Risen, turn the enemy's greatest tool against them, then he'd have a chance at reclaiming the things that had been stolen from him and continuing with his quest. It looked like his waiting had paid off.

"You must understand what it is you deal with, however." Aversa continued, holding two spell tomes aloft, their covers as black as the night sky. "The Risen you may summon are not the mere shambling hulks you might be familiar with. What you have seen before are the dead, resurrected again to serve the Fell Dragon. What we summon, however, is something much more. These creatures are His sword and shield, a vanguard pulled from beyond this realm and gifted to His favored for a time. They are not only more ruthless and dangerous than the creatures that wander the countryside, but can even be controlled, to an extent. As the summoner, it falls on you to bind them to you. Should you fail, you shall be considered no better than the foe you would have them face. It would be wise to succeed in this task, agents." Aversa smiled. "This does not mean, however, that I am without sense. It would be a shame to waste precious resources like yourselves to a simple lack of experience. You will work in pairs for your first summoning. I leave it to your leader to make this decision. On my command, we will begin the lesson." The witch handed the tomes over to Cera, and walked into the night.

"Borri, Jered, take this and head south." Cera gave them one of the tomes. "Aiden and I will practice to the north."

"Any particular reason you chose this setup?" Aiden asked as he followed her north.

"Because I know you, out of all of us, are the most likely to kill yourself trying something so complex for the first time." Cera candidly explained. "I felt it necessary to supplement your…less-than-perfect magical skill with my own. Seeing as I know how this procedure works, I'm the one who's most likely to get you through this without you being siphoned of all your energy or disemboweled."

"Well, thanks, then." Aiden chuckled nervously.

"Don't thank me yet." Cera told him, looking forward.

Eventually, they reached the marked position. They stood a distance away from a cliff face. Looking beyond it, Aiden could make out a forested valley. Anything other than that, though, was invisible in the darkness.

"Hey, Cera?" Aiden asked. "If this winds up being the last mission we run together…you know, if they split us up and we don't meet again…I just wanted to say: thank you." Truth be told, Aiden was considering what he'd do once he learned this spell. With the team splitting up, there wasn't necessarily anything to bind him to the Grimleal. He could easily just…disappear one night, find his things, and get back on his original path. It'd be easy.

"Like I said, don't thank me yet." Cera mumbled. "But I promise…if it is within my power, I'll find you again, alright?" Aiden smiled at the thought. If she knew where he came from, she'd know that would be impossible…even though some part of him wished that she would somehow defy reality, he knew it couldn't happen.

"I know you'll try." He told her. "But just in case, I wanted you to know that your friendship means a lot to me. You've helped me through a lot of rough places." If things had been different…

"Listen, Aiden. You should know something." Cera spoke up suddenly. "I-"

"Hiya!" A white-haired dark mage seemingly materialized behind them, a raven on his shoulder.

"Gods above!" Cera whirled around. Aiden himself was silent as his heart momentarily stopped beating. "Henry?"

"Nya ha ha, in the flesh!" The Plegian mage answered. "Boy, I wasn't expecting to find anyone out here!"

"Well, this place _is_ pretty remote." Cera awkwardly answered. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Oh, it's not so far, as the crow flies!" Henry laughed at his own joke. The raven on his shoulder just stared at Aiden with one eye. "I thought I'd see for myself if this place deserved the name. Carrion Isle. It sounds fantastic, but I haven't seen anything dead yet! Aww…"

"Uh, well…we're about to start a summoning exercise…" Aiden told the dark mage. "So…you know…zombies."

"Great!" Henry cheered. "There'll be so much wonderful death!" Then, almost as instantly as he had appeared, he was gone.

"So…" Aiden turned to Cera. "You know him?"

"We've met, briefly." She answered. "He's rather infamous, actually. The birds, you know. As a Plegian dark mage, he is technically Grimleal, but he's always seemed to follow his own desires. But he's been helpful enough that no one has tried to rein him in, and he's insane enough that no one thinks it'd be worth the effort to attempt it."

"Well, he's certainly interesting." Aiden sighed. "When are we-" The glowing rune that ppeared on the cover of the spell tome told the swordsmaster it was time to begin. "The signal! It's time."

"Right, of course." Cera approached slowly. She seemed oddly hesitant.

"Come on, it'll be fine." Aiden reassured her. He opened the book and began to recite the spell. Cera placed one of her hands on the back of his own, just as she had done when Aiden had been first initiated.

Aiden felt the spell draining his energy, but he also felt the influx of strength from Cera. The spell's runes materialized around him, tracing intricate patterns in the sky. They began to move faster and faster, and then stopped. A portal appeared in the sky, opening like an enormous eye. Aiden grinned. He'd done it. They'd done it.

Then pain wracked his body. The runes that had floated around him collapsed inwards, constricting. Aiden collapsed in agony, barely able to form a coherent thought. He screamed. It was all he could do.

Then there was something else. With agonizing slowness, the blinding agony was beaten back. He…oh, gods, the pain! But he could think. Aiden willed his eyes to open.

Aversa stood over him, a cruel smile on her face. Cera stood next to her, refusing to meet Aiden's gaze.

"Still alive, are we?" Aversa asked him. "Well, I suppose it is better this way. Now you can truly understand the magnitude of your failure before you die." She paced out of his line of sight. Aiden didn't even possess the strength to turn his head. "Did you honestly believe that you could hide from us for so long? We've always known who you were. You continued to exist because you were a convenient tool. But every tool breaks, and I'm sure you were just about ready to betray us, weren't you?" Aiden's only response was a pained gasp.

"Oh, of course." She continued. "In case you were curious, the summoning worked perfectly. In fact, you had potential. It's such a shame to see it go to waste. But no, what you are experiencing now was entirely intentional. You have been cursed. Of course, I couldn't have achieved any of this without the help of your darling cell leader." Cera didn't respond to Aversa's claims as Aversa wandered back into Aiden's sight. "With her talent for this sort of thing, I'm surprised you aren't already dead. It couldn't be that you've grown attached, have you?" She asked Cera.

"No, my lady. I-"

"Of course not. I'm sure the fact that he still draws breath was just a misjudgment on your part." Aversa turned to face Aiden. "One I am happy to exploit. You see, your very existence is an affront to Grima's will. For trying to defy fate, you deserve every moment of agony you will endure. But, if it is any consolation, know that your friends will join you soon enough. The creatures you summoned will see to that." Aversa gestured towards the valley. Aiden could only stare on in horror as a mass of Risen shambled into view, headed where the Grimleal willed. He…he'd been the one to summon them. Cainne and the others…they'd all pay for his mistake.

"Alas, I cannot stay and chat any longer. Someone must guide these creatures to their target, after all. Cera, I would greatly appreciate it if you would finish the job and eliminate this traitor." Another wave of debilitating pain coursed through Aiden's body. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and waited for it to pass.

He was surprised that he was still able to open them again a minute later. The worst of the hex had passed, it seemed, as he was able to regain control of his own body long enough to stand up, slowly and shakily. Hadn't Cera been ordered to-

"Go." Aiden turned to look at his former comrade. She was at the edge of the forest, her back to him. "Leave."

"Cera, wait-"

"Isn't it enough that you still draw breath? Leave me alone, traitor."

"You...agh…you have to know that the Grimleal aren't good people. They…they'll destroy everything." The swordsmaster gritted his teeth as another wave of pain coursed through him. It was weaker than the last, but it still nearly knocked him off his feet.

"Don't bother. The Grimleal are my family. I thought you were different, that maybe you could be part of it, too. I was a fool, and now I'll suffer for it. So just leave already, before I follow my orders."

Aiden wanted to do anything but that. He wanted to say something, anything, to change her mind. He wanted…he didn't know what he wanted anymore. But he didn't have a choice. He was in no condition to fight, and Cera or Aversa would kill him. So he ran. He turned towards the valley and ran as fast as he could.

Aversa had made it sound like Cainne and the others were here. More importantly, he'd put them at risk. He needed to warn them, somehow. He followed the path the Risen had left behind, staying low and keeping his distance. Although he wished he could attribute his slow movement to a conscious effort at being stealthy, it was the curse that wracked him which kept him away from the Risen. At this rate, they'd find the others before he did.

He stumbled through the trees, eventually finding himself at the face of a cliff. The valley opened up below. In the distance, he was able to make out the soft glow of camp fires. That had to be them. The swordsmaster scanned the cliff face for some path down. Another spasm wracked him, strong enough to knock him to his knees. A rock slipped out from under him as he fell, and Aiden found himself barely aware as he tumbled down the slope.

He hit the ground, hard. The impact only worsened the agony he felt. The fall hadn't been too far, luckily, and the slope had not been a sheer one. But now his agony was physical as well as magical and emotional. He tried to stand, but could only accomplish rising up on one knee. With a gasp, he pulled himself forward. There was an old, gnarled tree nearby. If he could reach it, maybe he could pull himself upright. And so he crawled, one hand after the other, towards it. Before long, the blackened and twisted bark was the only thing he could see. Reaching the tree was the only thing he could do anymore, damn everything else.

He crawled for what felt like hours. The rocks in the ground bit into his palms, roots threatened to trip him, and the tree seemed to draw no closer. Then, his hand felt something much harder than dirt. He grasped the trunk of the tree, leaning against it. He did not have the strength to stand up. Aiden leaned back against it, tears of agony streaking his face.

It wasn't long before glowing red eyes appeared all around him. Three undead abominations shambled out of the darkness, faces locked in a tormented growl and weapons gleaming razor-sharp in the moonlight. Aiden fumbled for his blade, his fingers just barely unable to close around the grip.

The Risen let out their unearthly shrieks, black fog pooling around them. One charged him, sword held high. It moved with unnatural speed, closing the distance between them in an instant. Aiden would have barely been able to react if he had been in top form. As dazed and injured as he was, he stood no chance. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

The Risen fell dead in its tracks, cleaved in twain. The others fell moments later, even their inhuman reflexes failing to save them. Aiden's savior crouched in front of him, holding something to his lips.

"Drink, damn you." They told him. Aiden obliged. The familiar taste of healing elixir filled his mouth, and the fog around his mind lifted along with the wounds he had received from the fall. The curse would be harder to lift, but for once, he could think straight. But, judging by who had saved him, maybe he was still dreaming.

"Cainne?" He asked, still struggling to get his bearings. She just grinned.

"Gods above, I can't leave you alone for a second, can I? Let alone years." the Taguel offered him a hand.

"I appreciate it…but why? After what I put you through, I thought you wanted to kill me."

"I did, for a bit." She answered. "But I'm guessing by your sorry state that the Grimleal aren't exactly your friends anymore."

"Yeah, you could say that." He grimaced, only partially due to a fresh wave of pain. "I'm sorry. You were right all along."

"Well at least you've had some sense knocked back into you." Cainne told him. "Now, unless you want to risk running off on your own again like a fool, I believe we have some Risen to take care of." She once again offered him her hand. Aiden took it.

"Gladly." The swordsman was somewhat unsteady on his feet, but it didn't matter anymore. He was back where he belonged. The Risen would go no further tonight.

* * *

Shione was once again stuck where he least wanted to be in a fight: on the ground. Anem had been sent for once Cordelia had realized he was going to be working with them in Valm, but had not yet arrived. And with the wyvern he had borrowed still with its actual owner in Port Ferox, he was stuck supporting his captain from the ground. Strangely enough, he wasn't the only one.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Henry shouted. He made it sound like a cheerful promise, not a threat. It was, in fact, fairly accurate, the Risen collapsing moments later. "But I guess I can't kill what's already dead…aww."

"Would you focus?" Shione pleaded. He'd been dealing with this since they'd been assigned to work together.

"I can try…but it's really hard with all this killing to do!" Henry whined.

"No, listen! That's good. Keep killing! Just make sure it's the Risen, not the Shepherds! Us dying is bad, alright?"

"Well, if you say so." Henry looked at Shione like he was crazy, but he nodded anyway. Then, he turned his gaze skyward, to Cordelia. "Look out, lady!" Henry had destroyed the Risen archer before Shione had time to react to the declaration, let alone notice the threat. Henry just turned back to him, grinning.

"Like that?" the white-haired psycho asked.

"Yes, thank you." Cordelia answered, landing. "There are more archers out here than I'm comfortable flying with. They're on the cliffs, too. We need to flank around and deal with them."

"No problem!" Henry cheered, even though Cordelia had been talking to Shione. "Now that I know who I can kill, it'll be a piece of cake!"

"We, uh, appreciate your assistance, Henry." Cordelia stared at the newest Shepherd with a strange mixture of appreciation and terror. Shione felt the same way she looked.

"No thanks necessary! The ravens like you, you know. They think it's pretty neat how you're flying around just like them. And if they like you, you must be pretty great!"

"Well, thank you…them…all of you." Cordelia struggled to respond. "How…charming." Henry, grinning, just took off in pursuit of the next unfortunate Risen. Not wanting to be left behind, Cordelia took off and headed after him. Shione just sighed. It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

Lyta's arrows soared through the night sky, finding their marks before the Risen could engage Martin. Lyta figured the tactician had enough on his plate without two more Risen flanking behind him. He was lucky she'd been keeping watch when the undead had appeared.

To his credit, Martin was no slouch, either. He was the shield to Lyta's sword, holding the tide back while she picked them off. The other Shepherds were rallying and the fight was starting to tip in their favor, but it had not been easy. These Risen did not act like the ones they were used to. They were cohesive in a way, almost unified, as if they were being controlled. To make matters worse, they were a lot tougher, too. She watched as Martin engaged one. The tactician's blade darted in and out, probing for a weakness in the monster's defenses, but the Risen's agility kept it from suffering more than a scratch. As it pressed its own counterattack, raining down blows on Martin, Lyta found her shot and an arrow sprouted between the thing's eyes. Fortunately, it didn't get back up. Some of the others had managed to after suffering similar wounds, a nasty trick.

Despite their successes, the Shepherds were still being pressed on all fronts. Here, by the mouth of the valley, the tide of Risen seemed endless. For every Risen they cut down, more rose to replace it, filtering down from the canyon walls above. They needed something to stem the tide, and fast.

Salvation came in the form of a familiar Taguel form, tearing through the Risen from behind. Then, to Lyta's surprise, another all-too-familiar swordsmaster followed close behind, cutting down the stunned Risen Cainne left in her wake. Lyta almost considered shooting the bastard.

She soon became glad she hadn't when the duo made their stand. Cainne and Aiden moved as one, managing to strike a perfect balance of offensive fury and defensive strength. They covered each other's weaknesses, struck down foes in synch, and generally tore through the enemy with a practiced and familiar ease that Lyta knew they had spent years working towards. It was an inspiring sight. Soon, the Shepherd defenders had rallied and the pair had made their way to Martin and Lyta's position.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Martin greeted Aiden.

"Found him out back." Cainne answered. "Figured we could use the help."

"Well, it's damn good to see you both working together again." The tactician grinned at them before narrowing his eyes at Aiden. "But don't think this means I don't have some very stern words for you. We're going to have a sorely-needed talk once this is over." The way he said talk brought to mind many things, none of which actually involved a discussion.

"Oh, I think we all have words for him." Cainne added. "But we've got much more important things to deal with at the moment."

"Agreed." Aiden nodded. "I promise I'll explain everything later."

"You'd better." Lyta added. "Or else I might have found an excuse to practice my shooting." Aiden laughed nervously, not sure whether to take her seriously. She was joking, of course…maybe.

"Well, if everyone's done joking at my expense, we have Risen to clean up, and then I need to have a curse taken care of." Aiden grimaced.

"Oh, we're not done yet." Martin clarified. "Shione hasn't had a chance to say anything yet. So let's clear these bastards out and give him the opportunity." With the final word spoken and work to be done, the four adventurers dove back into battle. For the first time in years they were together again, and the Risen would learn just how dangerous that made them.

* * *

Lucina watched as the Shepherds held firm against the encroaching darkness. She'd done her part, dealing with some of the undead that had managed to approach from the north undetected. Now the battle was all but over. The Risen lines were shattered, their "leader", if the Risen truly thought of the chief in such terms, had been slain by Chrom's own hand. With the fall of the Risen chief the rest had dissipated into the night, some quite literally turning into smoke.

"That's the last of them." Chrom breathed a sigh of relief. Lucina had tried to watch over him for the whole battle. His fighting had certainly improved since they had fought in Ragna Ferox, she was happy to know. He had really become the leader The Shepherds and all of Ylisse needed.

"Gods," Chrom sheathed his Falchion, "I thought it might nev-" Lucina saw the Risen at the exact moment someone else tried to warn Chrom. She didn't hear what had been said. All she saw was the monster lunging at the prince, who wouldn't be able to react in time. She would not lose him again.

"Father, no!" the words left her lips even though she was hardly aware of them, focused as she was on the threat. She caught the Risen's sword on Falchion's unbreakable blade, throwing the monster's weapon to the side before kicking it away from its target. From her father. Chrom recovered in time to kill the creature, ending the threat it posed.

They waited a few tense moments for further attacks, and only when none came did Lucina allow herself to relax. She turned towards Chrom, already resuming the guise of Marth. She had long ago accepted that Chrom would never know what was going through her mind. It was a sacrifice that had to be made.

"Thank the gods you're safe!" She allowed herself to smile somewhat. Chrom did not return her smile. Instead, he seemed quite puzzled.

"You called me 'Father'" He eventually told her.

"Did I?" Lucina began to panic. No, there was no way that she had…damn it all, she had! And that meant…what did it mean, actually? "I…perhaps we might speak privately?" She braced herself for a conversation she never thought she would have. Fortunately, Chrom had been the only one to notice her outburst. The tactician was already occupied with checking the camp for any more stragglers.

"Perhaps we should, yes." Chrom replied, concerned. Together, they walked away from the camp. Once they were a safe distance away, Lucina tried to speak. For a moment, the words did not come. In the distance, a river flowed.

"I don't even know where to begin." She eventually admitted. Fortunately, Chrom seemed willing to take over the conversation.

"I already know you're not 'Marth', though I've nothing better to call you." He told her. "But I'll ask nothing of you that you don't wish to reveal. Whoever you are, Ylisse owes you a debt beyond repaying." For a moment, Lucina was tempted to take him up on the offer and not reveal who she was. It would have been easier for both of them. But she, too, owed a debt to the prince. Chrom couldn't have understood unless she told him the truth.

"Thank you," She answered, "but I think I would prefer you know the truth."

"As you wish." Chrom allowed. Unsure how to approach the matter with words alone, Lucina drew closer to him.

"Here." She looked into his eyes. Even though they shouldn't have been, they were so familiar. "Look closely, and all will be made clear."

"That's…" Chrom's brow furrowed, trying to understand what he saw. "The brand of the Exalt." He backed away, grasping for an answer. Eventually, he couldn't deny what his eyes told him. "Lucina…" She nodded. He didn't understand how it had happened, but he knew who she was. His eyes fell to the blade at her waist. Her father's last gift to her.

"You deserved better from me than one sword and a world of troubles." He told her. "I'm sorry." The way he said it…Lucina knew that her father was dead. She'd accepted it. But right now, it seemed so much like he was right there, in front of her. Her emotions overwhelmed her. It wasn't the first time she had wept over the memory of her lost family. But for the first time, someone else dried her tears. Chrom's hand brushed against her cheek, a sensation that she hadn't felt in years but which felt so familiar. In that instant, all was forgotten. The Chrom in front of her was not truly her father, but she no longer cared. She wept into his shoulder as he held her close. The sun crested the horizon and the night began to fade away.

"Better, Lucina?" he asked her after a time.

"Yes. Father," she apologized, "I'm sorry. It just all rushed back at once."

"Father…" he repeated, a strange expression on his face. It occurred to Lucina that he might not have felt the same connection she had.

"Should I call you something else?" She asked hesitantly.

"No, it's just strange to my ear." He answered, and then smiled at her. "I like it." And for the first time in a long while, Lucina had a reason to laugh. She embraced him, grinning. He embraced her in return. "Yes, it will take some getting used to!" He laughed.

"I'm sorry- Chrom?" Lucina quickly broke free of the hug. She and Chrom found themselves under the intensely confused scrutiny of the tactician from earlier. Chrom didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, Robin." He greeted the Shepherd. "What is it?"

"It's just that…" Robin struggled to explain. "You two are out here alone, and Marth is…" he gazed at her more intensely, confusion growing, "crying. This is how ill rumors are born."

"He loves me…" another familiar voice greeted Lucina's ears. "He loves me not…" Lucina instantly recognized her mother, currently engaged in…tearing up a flower?

"Er, Sumia?" Chrom beat Lucina to the question. "Why in the gods' names are you shredding those poor flowers?"

"I'm not spying on you!" She backed away, clutching the flower to her chest defensively. "You can't prove that I am! Oh, gods! You brought her!" Aware of the apparent confusion, Lucina's cheeks reddened. She was sure it did not help her case.

"Can we tell her, Lucina?"

"Of course."

"Lucina?" The pegasus knight responded. "But wait, that's..."

"Sumia, this is going to be something of a shock, but..." Chrom tried to figure out how to tell his wife the truth. It seemed he was no better at it than Lucina had been. "I'll just say it: This is our daughter, Lucina."

"...What?" Sumia's response was utter disbelief. Lucina did not blame her. Unnoticed by the trio, Robin desperately tried to make sense of what he was hearing.

"It's true, Sumia." Lucina stepped up to the woman she knew as her mother. "I'm your daughter. Look closely and see for yourself."

"Y-your eye!" The strategy worked as well on Sumia as it had on Chrom. "It has the Brand!"

"The same Brand carried by all House Ylisse's bloodline." Chrom confirmed.

"This... This is..." The poor woman was in shock. It was not every day someone found out they were the parent of a teenage girl.

"Do you see now?" Chrom asked gently?

"No, Chrom, I do not see!" Sumia lashed out. Lucina had hoped this would go better. "This doesn't make any sense! ...Wait. Is my Lucina all right? What did you do to her!?"

"Peace, Sumia." Chrom tried to calm his frantic wife down.

"Your baby is right where you left her, and perfectly safe." Lucina added. "I am her from another time. From a time that is yet to be."

"You mean...the future?" She certainly caught on fast.

"Yes, more than ten years hence." Now that she thought of it, it was much longer than that. Counting the years had been difficult with society collapsing. Lucina had been about ten when her father had died. Though she did not know exactly how long, she'd spent many more years on the run before she had traveled here. "After history takes a dark and most destructive turn."

"But why?" Robin finally managed to edge into the conversation. "What happens in the future!?"

"The Fell Dragon, Grima, is resurrected." She shuddered at the memory. The great, dark shadows of his wings… "His roar is a death knell for man, a scream that silences all hope... Death everywhere..."

"Chrom?" Robin clarified, shocked. "...Our whole company? All of us? Dead!?"

"...Yes." She answered. She did not tell him that at least one had not. Whoever had betrayed her father had been instrumental in Grima's resurrection as well…but she did not have a name yet.

"...I...I don't know what to say." The tactician replied.

"A tale that beggars belief, and yet the truth of it stands before us." Chrom stated, gesturing to her blade. "She carries Falchion, my same sword. And the same sword the first exalt used to defeat Grima long ago."

"Your blade and mine are one, Father." Lucina explained. "It was... It was all I had left of you."

"There is only one Falchion, Robin. I believe her."

"Yeah, and so do I!" Who…? Aunt Lissa. Of course. Even in Lucina's time, it seemed she heard everything there was to hear about her brother's affairs. "Heck, I saw her come from the future! She fell right out of the sky! I've never seen anything like it..." To Lucina, it seemed that Lissa still hadn't gotten over her affection for "Marth".

"Thank you, Aunt Lissa. Naga, the divine dragon, feared mankind would face Grima again. In preparation for that day, she devised a ritual." Lucina finally explained. In truth, she didn't fully understand the mechanism of her journey herself. There hadn't been time to consider it. "It allows one to return to the past and alter events already written. I made the journey together with others, but...we became separated."

"Don't worry, Lucina." Aunt Lissa cheered. Lucina wondered how she'd react if and when she ever met Owain. "If they're out there, we'll find 'em!"

"Are you really my daughter?" A small, confused voice caught Lucina's attention.

"I swear on my life." She told her mother.

"You grow up..." Sumia stumbled over her words. "Er, grew up to be so strong... So beautiful..." She smiled, and Lucina's heart almost melted.

"Thank you...Sumia."

"You don't want to call me Mother?" Suddenly, her meekness was gone, replaced by shock.

"I...thought you might mind." Lucina admitted.

"Of course not, Lucina!" Sumia practically shouted. Suddenly, she seemed much more like the mother that Lucina was familiar with. "I love you more than anything in the world." For the second time in a short span, Lucina found herself unable to control her tears. This time, however, they were tears of joy. She had a family again.

"I am so very proud of you..." Sumia…no, her mother, told her.

"I've missed you more than you'll ever know..." Lucina replied. If she had her way, they would never need to experience what she had.

"Wait…" Robin interjected once Sumia had let go of her daughter, "There are more of you?"

"Yes." Lucina replied. "Like me, they wish to avert the catastrophe we all experienced."

"So that means…what, exactly? Will they fight with us against Grima?"

"I'd imagine so. I certainly don't plan on leaving Father's side unless I must." At this, Robin groaned.

"Well, that's fantastic. More salary and budget management for me." He grumbled.

"Salary?" Lucina asked.

"You don't honestly expect that there wouldn't be some benefits to joining the Shepherds, do you?"

"I never considered…we're fighting for the future, not payment." Lucina stated.

"Well then consider it an allowance." Robin told her. "If I ever had a kid, fighting to save a doomed reality would be the kind of behavior I'd want to encourage." He concluded. Then he realized what he'd said. "Wait, _do_ I have a…?"

"Actually, not that I'm aware of." Lucina answered. To her surprise, Robin cheered.

"Ha! Not yet!" He whooped.

"I beg your pardon?" Chrom looked at his friend quizzically.

"We spend enough time together that you may have forgotten, but I'm not like you. I may not remember how old I am exactly, but I'm still pretty young! I've got my whole life to live!" Chrom took offense to the notion that he was, by comparison, old, but Robin continued on. "Besides, I'd probably make a bad parent. I don't have the life experience. I mean, can you imagine Ricken trying to care for a child from the future?"

"Well, actually…" Lucina grimaced.

"Really?" Chrom scoffed. "How? With who?" he scratched his head. Behind him, Lissa's face blushed a deep shade of crimson as she desperately attempted to avoid being noticed. Fortunately, a distraction came along soon enough.

"There you are!" The shepherd's other tactician, Martin if Lucina remembered correctly, approached the group from the direction of the river. Cainne was following behind, supporting a third individual Lucina didn't recognize. It seemed that everyone had a reason to be here.

"I don't mean to intrude on…whatever this is," Martin continued, "but I don't suppose anyone knows where to find an expert on hexes? Tharja's not at her tent and I figured if she would be anywhere, she'd be with Robin."

"Strangely enough, no she isn't." Robin answered. "Maybe check Libra's tent? He's been helping her with some experiment, so I'd look there. Even if she isn't, maybe Libra can help."

"Great." Martin answered. "I'll be right back!" He dashed off towards the campsite.

"Then I suppose I'll stay here, then!" Cainne called after him sarcastically. "Interrupting…something."

"It's fine." Chrom told her. "But who is this?" He gestured to the stranger leaning against Cainne.

"Ah, yes. Introductions are in order." Cainne nodded. "You may recall when we first met that I mentioned needing to track a criminal down. As it turns out, we found him. He's been cursed by the Grimleal, however, and needs aid."

"'Criminal' is such a strong word." The stranger replied, looking up. "Cursed, however, is entirely appropriate. And painful." Lucina's eyes widened as she recognized the face and voice of the man. They'd met before, in the Plegian desert. In fact, they'd crossed blades. He'd acted suspiciously then, and now he appeared after a Risen ambush? This was the man Cainne was after?

"What are you doing here?" She asked, suspicion apparent in her tone.

"Suffering, mostly." He answered. "Oh, it's you."

"You've met?" Chrom inquired.

"Once." Lucina clarified. "He seemed strange then, even more so now. I don't trust him."

"You aren't the only one." Cainne told her.

"Then why are you helping him?"

"As I said, it was my duty to track him down. Now, I am responsible for making sure he survives." Cainne answered. "As his guardian and older sister, I am responsible for his well-being."

"Older sister?" The stranger protested. "Five minutes, and you've never let me forget it."

"Perhaps if you stopped acting like a petulant child, I would not treat you like one." Cainne responded.

"Wait a minute." Chrom interjected, echoing what Lucina had been about to say. "You two are siblings?"

"Twins, by the sound of it." Robin added. "Apparently not the identical variety."

"Indeed." Cainne confirmed. "I suppose I should explain: our family was mixed. Aiden and I are both half-blooded Taguel. The other half is human."

"She got all the resemblance to a rabbit, I got all the charm." The swordsman, Aiden, added, before grimacing and leaning heavily on his sister. The hex must have been at work.

"And none of the common sense." Cainne finished his statement.

"I wasn't even aware such a thing could happen." Chrom responded. "Although, I suppose it wouldn't be the strangest thing I learned today." Lucina knew better, having already met one such half-breed. She had not been expecting to meet more, however. How would Yarne react?

"I _was_ just about to ask why you were all gathered here." Martin told the prince, returning. "Tharja will be here soon, but…did Marth finally realize that we're a much better alternative to wandering around Plegia aimlessly?"

"I suppose I have." Lucina answered. "But you should know that my real name is Lucina, and I hail from the future. Chrom is my father."

"Huh." Martin shrugged. "Neat."

"That's all you have to say?" Robin asked. "Everyone else has had trouble believing it, but you seem rather nonchalant about all of this."

"My brother and I can transform at will." Cainne answered for Martin. "We've seen portals appear in the sky and disgorge the living dead. Frankly, it only makes sense that the blue-haired swordswoman with a blade that shouldn't exist is your daughter. It is strange, but so is everything else about life with you people."

"I suppose I should have expected as much." Lucina told them. "I fear I might have misjudged you. You were not a part of the future I lived in, and so I worried about your intent. You have instead demonstrated repeatedly that my mistrust was wrong."

"It's understandable." Martin told her. "We only came here to investigate all the undead and the strange natural disasters. If those were related to you coming here in the first place, it stands to reason we never met the Shepherds in your version of the future."

"You catch on to this very quickly, Martin." Chrom spoke up. "I still barely understand it all."

"I think I get it, actually." Robin replied. "I suppose we just have the mindset for it."

"That's great and all, but I feel like we're drifting off track a bit." Aiden interjected. "I'm getting real tired of this hex."

"Yeah, well, you can sit and suffer a bit until help arrives." Martin told him. "Serves you right for what you put us through."

"Well, fuck you too- Agh, gods above!" The swordsman grimaced.

"He has a point, though." Martin looked to Cainne. "What _are_ we going to do with him?"

"I figured that he could help us, with Chrom's permission." Cainne answered. "We could use the help if we're involved in a war now, and I'd get to keep an eye on him. Consider it community service."

"If you think he can be trusted," Chrom replied, "I'll allow it." Aiden did not complain.

"Then I guess that mean's I really need to update the roster." Robin grumbled, marching off.

"And I suppose I should inform everyone about our new members." Chrom replied.

"Oh, no you don't." Sumia caught him. "You and I are going to have a little chat. You gave me quite the scare, gallivanting off with some strange woman." Before he could have the chance to reply, Chrom was being led off to the tent they shared. Tharja, looking as disgruntled as ever, arrived and Martin began to explain the situation. No longer needed, Lucina smiled. She supposed the task of introductions fell to her, now.

* * *

"Wow, looks like the rumors were true." Shione looked up as Martin, Cainne, and surprisingly Aiden filed into the tent. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon, certainly not after you ran off like you did."

"Hey, Shione." Aiden greeted him. "I'll explain everything, I promise." He looked towards his sister. "But first I need to know…why didn't you tell them?"

"Tell them what?" Cainne asked.

"Who we are." Aiden replied. "It's the perfect timing. Lucina's here, the Shepherds know that time travel is a thing. We could explain everything."

"That would be stress they don't need right now." Cainne told him. "You saw Lucina. This must all be as confusing for her as it is for her father, and she's had two years to acclimate to living in this time. The others won't have had that luxury. We both know that time travel isn't always the most accurate. For some of them, it will have been mere days since they were running from Risen and an evil god. Now they're reuniting with parents they knew were dead, and trying to surmount all the obstacles which come with something like that. Add in a war with Valm that they'll likely find themselves part of, plus whatever personal troubles they may be facing, and that would be enough to occupy anyone's attention. And they're just teenagers. We've dealt with time travel and everything that comes with it for longer than they have, and I'm not exactly an old rabbit."

"But what we know could help them." Aiden answered. "It might cheer them up, at least."

"And how would we explain what we know?" Cainne asked her brother. "If you were one of them, what would you do? You've just been through hell, and suddenly one of the strange individuals that you don't recognize and who's spent the last two years with the Shepherds approaches you and tells you that they're your child from yet another alternate future…they aren't as aware of all of this as we are. They're scared and confused right now. A revelation like that would just be cruel."

"Besides," Shione added, "I have first-hand experience with how much an off-hand comment can almost screw up someone else's relationship. It was a miracle that Cordelia and Chrom really just weren't compatible. Now consider what would happen if you told some kid who they were going to spend the rest of their lives with. They're just as likely to freak out and try to rebel against that possibility as they are to embrace it. And I don't want to be the one explaining to my own heartbroken mother why her crush won't look her in the eye."

"Honestly, it'd be better if we finished this up and left without them ever finding out who we were." Lyta stated. "I've never been comfortable with the idea of meddling with the timeline of this world."

"We've done just fine under our cover to this point." Martin replied, approaching Aiden. "Let's keep it that way." He hefted a coil of rope menacingly.

"Alright, fine." Aiden answered. "But are these bindings really necessary?" Martin tightened the ropes around Aiden's wrists and tied the impromptu restraints to a bed post.

"Yeah, they are." Shione answered. "Tell us what's been going on with you, and then we'll figure out if you've earned the right to walk around unsupervised without us fearing that you're going to stab us all in the back."

"I'm not going to run away again." Aiden replied, suddenly very serious. "And I never even considered betraying you. Even if I did want to run away, staying with you would be much safer. The Grimleal and I didn't part on the best of terms."

"What the hell was with that, anyway?" Martin growled. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't know." Aiden answered, honestly. "It was a mistake…I thought I could turn their own weapons against them. They already had the book, I thought I could trick them. They'd let me in, and I'd get everything back and then some. I didn't know they'd been playing me from the start."

"Gods damn it." Martin shook his head. "So they have everything. They know who we all are."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Martin. Cainne. Shione. Lyta. I fucked up."

"You couldn't have known that Grima was aware of us." Cainne told him. He seemed shocked by the revelation that the Fell Dragon had noticed them, but Cainne continued on. "We'll find a way to get the book back. It's dangerous in Grimleal hands, not to mention it's our only way home. What I want to know is why you did all this in the first place. Why steal the book? Why did you need resources that the Grimleal had? What were you doing?"

"You should understand better than anyone, Cainne. You grew up hearing the same stories. Heroes traveling through time to save the future and their family. Fantastic legends that our parents lived through. I got tired of sitting around. I wanted to act."

"You mean to tell me that this was all to fulfill some sort of fantasy?" Cainne asked. She was calm, but her eyes glinted dangerously. "You wanted to be some kind of time-travelling hero?"

"No." Aiden stared right back. "I wanted to make sure no one else had to be. Sure, our parents saved the world and moved on to better things, but we all know they still bear the wounds of the past. We're living their life right now, and it's pretty clear to me they didn't have it easy. I didn't want anyone else to have to grow up with parents who bore those wounds like we did. I didn't want anyone to grow up, watch their family die, and be forced into the messed-up situation Lucina is in right now. We were granted an incredible gift in that tome, and everyone has been content to sit around and let it collect dust. I wanted to make a difference. If that meant facing down a god, so be it."

"But why did you go here?" Martin asked. "Setting aside how insane that all is, why are we all in this timeline right now? The people here would have been fine without you doing anything, so why interfere?"

"Maybe I'm crazy, but I'm not suicidal." Aiden replied. "I needed help. I figured that I might convince people here to help me out. At the very least, I could find the resources I needed to start off right and wait for things back home to blow over. Then everything went wrong, and…my plans changed. The Grimleal were actually my way back on track. I figured that if I could learn to summon and control Risen like they could, I'd have my own army. I could stand against Grima without risking the lives of anyone. Clearly, it didn't work."

"You're damn right it didn't work. Now we're all involved in a foreign war and an evil cult has the power to manipulate reality at their fingertips." Martin growled. "I get what you were thinking, but how could you be so damn stupid?"

"Maybe I wasn't content to spend my life clearing out packs of Risen and studying all day!" Aiden shot back. "We had the ability to change things for the better, and we did nothing with it. I wasn't going to let other suffer because no one was willing to take action. We all liked to think that our parents ended the threat of Grima forever, but now we know better. He may be gone from our world, but he's still present in any number of others."

"And did you ever consider that trying to fight a nigh-omnipresent being alone wasn't the best idea?" Cainne asked. "Your intentions may have been noble, but your actions have still made everything a great deal more complicated. Maybe Grima was still a threat. Maybe he knew about us before you did anything. He certainly seemed to know plenty already. But he certainly knows now, and he has taken an interest in all of us." She split her attention between Aiden and Martin. "I don't see this as much different than anything we've done to this point, however. We're involved whether we like it or not. Now we need to deal with the consequences. You both have valid concerns, but fighting isn't going to solve anything."

"So, what?" Martin asked. "We just pretend that Aiden didn't do anything? I get that he wasn't doing this just for fun, but I can't just forget that it happened."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Cainne answered. "But you need to accept that there's nothing we can do about it right now, that we face much greater challenges. As for you, Aiden… I want to help you. But what you've done- what we've all done- has the potential to destroy everything that Lucina and Chrom here are working for. We need to help them. You need to help them. If you wanted to make a difference, now is your chance."

"I'll do it." Aiden replied. "And for what it's worth, if I had known what would happen, I would never have done any of it. But I still believe in what I said."

"Fine." Martin answered. "Lyta, do you have a moment?"

"And where are you going?" Shione asked as Martin headed outside.

"I'm going to figure out how we get our book back."

* * *

_Perhaps now you see why I've wanted to write this chapter so badly. A lot of things happen, and we finally learn some crucial details about our strange time-traveling heroes._

_There was a definite theme to this chapter…if me saying the word half a dozen times didn't tip you off, it was about family, both biological and not. The Grimleal are not Aiden's family, though Cera had hoped otherwise. On the other hand, Cainne actually is. Validar is Robin's father. Chrom is Lucina's father. And, crucially, the protagonists we've been following are the children of Awakening's future children…so the third generation, if you're having trouble keeping track._

_I've got plenty to discuss in the author's notes, so take a look. But be aware that, since I have so much to talk about, it'll take a bit to type up. Allow for a delay between when this is posted and when the author's notes go up. _

_Finally, as I've said at least 17 times to date, leave a review! I appreciate those of you who have favorited or followed my story over time, and I hope you're still enjoying it…but what I'd really like to see is some actual feedback! Thanks!_


	18. Chapter 18: Bridging the Gap

_It wasn't out as quickly as the others, but at least I can present another chapter. And happy December, everyone. _

_For me, this means finals and lots of writing. It may be a surprise that I'm in a hard science major, so very little of my coursework is related to the sort of thing that goes into fiction writing. Then again, considering the quality of my work, perhaps it's not difficult to believe I'm not taking any writing classes…the point is, I have been and will be busy for a bit. I sunk a fair portion of my free time over two weeks (US Thanksgiving Break not included) into writing this. So we'll see when the next chapter is out._

* * *

Chrom stared blankly at the correspondence resting on the desk before him as Robin paced about the tent. Times like this made him wish Emmeryn was still around. She would have been better, or at least more used to, this sort of political gesturing.

"So King Validar wants us to do…what, exactly?" Chrom eventually asked. He'd heard it all when Robin first read the letter to him, but hearing and understanding were very different things.

"Essentially, he wants us to clear a path for his- or should I say, _our_ fleet. According to the note, most of the ships are sailing from a port far to our south. The quickest route to Port Ferox would be through this channel," Robin pointed to a location on the map hanging from the wall, "here. It's bordered by the mainland to the east, Carrion Isle to the north, and the former isle of Grust to the west, meaning that it is relatively sheltered from storms and Valmese Raiders. However, that doesn't exactly mean that it is safe. The Plegians have specifically pointed out a few mercenary holds that they fear might see the fleet as a prize. If we can clear those out, the ships should be free to sail all the way to Port Ferox."

"And he expects us to do this for him despite attacking us not two nights ago?" Chrom asked, somewhat rhetorically.

"_Allegedly_ attacked us." Robin clarified. "We all _know_ it was him, but we can't _prove_ that anything more than a roving pack of unusually well-coordinated Risen was involved."

"Validar himself made an appearance." Chrom replied. "You told me that you saw him."

"And if we tried to bring that up, he'd dismiss it as some sort of fever dream." Robin retorted. "Who else do we have that can verify what happened? You didn't see anything, and Martin didn't see enough to know who it was. The only other support we might have is from your time-travelling daughter, and good luck making anyone believe…well, anything she says after an introduction like that. Besides, we need those ships. If it helps, imagine that you're doing this all for Ylisse, not the Plegians. Because in a way, you are."

"Gods above, it always feels like we're two steps behind when dealing with that man."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, this has all the markings of your garden-variety political power move, rather than an evil plot." Robin grinned wearily. "If what Cainne told us is true, then a fair portion of the fleet is actually already to our north, at Altea. While I'm certain it requires large scale coordination to assemble a thousand ships, the northern fleet would suggest that this is all pretty much unnecessary posturing. I think Validar simply wants to show the world the he can use the Shepherds as a tool, rather than having said tool pointed at his own throat."

"That doesn't make me feel any better about all of this." Chrom replied. "But you seem to have no trouble keeping an even head, as usual. What do you think we should do?"

"Normally, that wouldn't be a difficult question. The locations Plegia provided us with aren't too far from where we are, at Carrion Isle. It'd be a simple trip to the mainland from here, then over to Grust. In a short time, the raiders will be gone and the fleet will be clear."

"I'm sensing a 'but'." Chrom observed. Robin nodded.

"It wouldn't take long, but let there be no mistake that it would take _some_ time. I doubt Walhart would just sit on his haunches and let us make the first move."

"You think he'll attack Port Ferox again." Chrom finished Robin's thought.

"Indeed. And without the Shepherds to protect it, it might very well fall. Then we lose the port we would sail from, not to mention Basilio's army. We need to protect both while the fleet is gathered. We need to send some of our people north."

"You propose splitting us up?" Chrom asked, somewhat incredulously. "Even if I thought we had the resources for it, do you think the people we send to Port Ferox would move faster on foot than on a ship?"

"It is a fair point." Robin conceded. "Or it would be, if Validar were not delaying. Make no mistake, the fleet won't move unless the raiders are dealt with. That will take time. And we have the resources. We rarely ever send our full strength into combat, simply because it would be too difficult trying to coordinate a 'small' team of two dozen."

"But will the time saved by this theoretical division of forces be worth it?" Chrom asked. "I'd rather not half our strength if the fleet arrives a day after they do."

"I don't know, to be honest." Robin admitted. "It's hard to anticipate what might-"

"Pardon the interruption." The Shepherd's personal fiery-haired saleswoman barged in. Chrom sighed. He was getting used to strange individuals interrupting private meetings. "I couldn't help but overhear that you've got a problem. Luckily, I've got just the solution you need!"

"And as usual, I presume that this solution has a cost?" Chrom dryly asked.

"Not this time!" Anna cheered. "Well, at least not from me. You see, I don't actually have anything on hand…but I know who does! One of my sisters is visiting a nearby town, and she stocks just the thing you need to sort out all this! So, if you help me find her, I'll see what I can do."

"Find her?" Robin asked. "I thought you knew where she was?"

"Well, I do." Anna enthusiastically replied. "But…there may or may not be a bunch of angry mercenaries all over the area right now, scaring off her business. They need someone to teach them a lesson, and you guys are the ones to do it!"

"Wait…" Robin trailed off, grabbing the letter. "Your sister wouldn't happen to be in the town of Law's End, would she?"

"We have a winner!" Anna replied. "So does that mean we're going?"

"Chrom, that's one of the places Validar wants us to handle." Robin shook the letter for emphasis.

"How very convenient." Chrom said warily. "I feel like we're being led around on some invisible leash, but if that's the case I suppose we have no choice. I'll take the risk." Anna happily bounded out of the tent. Robin followed not far behind, likely off to plan their route. The prince of Ylisse sighed, and reclined as much as the stiff chair beneath him would allow. He let his eyes close, glad to take advantage of this moment of tranquility.

"Excuse me, milord." Gods above…Chrom's eyes snapped open. Martin stood at the entrance to his tent, clearly looking to come in.

"Yes?"

"I was hoping we might be able to discuss something." Martin answered. "Something's come up…"

* * *

Aiden paced around the campsite in a daze. So much had happened in a single day, and he was still trying to process it all. He'd gone back to the ridgeline where the summoning had occurred as soon as he'd been able. As he'd expected, no sign of the Grimleal who had been there remained. He wasn't even sure why he had bothered. Now, he was simply wearing a rut into the dirt with his pacing, trying to figure out how to get his life back on track.

The swordsmaster ran a hand through his hair, absentmindedly twirling a strand of it. Cera had been right, it was a mess. _He_ was a mess as a result of the flight for his life. He chuckled to himself. Of all the things to remember about the friend who'd betrayed him, the one memory he couldn't get out of his mind was a comment about how sloppy his hair was. What the hell?

If he'd looked in a mirror right now, he knew he would have seen a mousy brown mess of hair atop his head, the same color as his sister's. Frankly, it was ridiculous how much thought some people put into hair. It was just some fur atop everyone's head, but the lengths people would go to in order to make it look nice, or fancy, or eye-catching…some even viewed it as a mark of ancestry. The descendants of the Hero-King, for example, had often been gifted with unnaturally blue hair, but even that wasn't always true. Emmeryn and Lissa, for example, had not been a victim of this quirk of fate. In the end, maybe hair was just…hair.

Aiden scoffed at himself. What was he doing? Was he really so dazed that rambling on to himself about hair seemed like a good idea? There were far better things to do. Like…well…

Aiden had no idea what was next, and it didn't feel good. Sure, he'd been lost a few times since coming here but he'd usually been able to find a new path sooner or later. Most of his time had been spent tracking down the book. Then he'd joined the Grimleal. That had caused him plenty of grief in the long run, but he'd at least had a general idea of what he was doing at the time. For the last few days, though, and even before he'd been exposed, Aiden had felt directionless. At least Cainne and the others finally understood what he'd been thinking when he'd started this whole mess.

"Hmm, you truly are a strange one." Aiden turned on his heel to face the speaker. "I did not believe at first that you were one of us. But I cannot deny you have the smell of a Taguel."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aiden asked Panne.

"Exactly what I said." She answered. "Your scent is different than that of a man-spawn, despite appearances." Aiden was somewhat baffled. He smelled differently than others? He'd never even considered it.

"Well, maybe I haven't had time to take a bath recently." He grumbled.

"You misunderstand me." Panne told him. "It was a compliment. A sign that you truly are a Taguel."

"Maybe, maybe not." Aiden answered. "I clearly don't look the part. Besides, my sister has probably told you we're half-bloods. What right do I have to say that I'm any more a Taguel than I am a human?"

"You can transform, yes?"

"I guess, if I had my stone." He hadn't seen the thing for years. It was probably still in the pocket of his other pants, stuck in another timeline. Not that he'd have cared anyway. "I don't usually keep it on me."

"You would disregard your heritage so easily?' Panne asked, starting to sound irked. Aiden wasn't sure if she was angry at what he'd done or because he'd been acting like a jerk, and he really didn't care. This was not the conversation he wanted to have again.

"Well maybe I'm not like you, alright?" He growled. "Maybe I'm more of a 'man-spawn' than I am a Taguel. Sorry we can't all be like Cainne." Before Panne had a chance to respond, Aiden stormed off. He had better things to do at the moment than be lectured by an angry rabbit.

* * *

"Martin, you seem troubled." Cainne greeted him as he walked past. Lyta was following him closely. They both stopped when they heard her.

"Great, just who I needed to talk to." Martin told her. "Look, there's something you should know."

"What?"

"I've got an idea about how to recover what Aiden lost." Martin answered. "You're not going to like it."

"Would it help if I just refused now?" Cainne asked, arching an eyebrow.

"No. When Grima lured us to Valm, he made it pretty clear that the book wasn't with him. I talked to Aiden, and he said that it had been locked away in the vault of the Plegian palace when it had originally been taken from him." Martin explained. "I imagine it's probably still there."

"What are you suggesting, that we raid the Plegian palace?" Cainne scoffed. "The Shepherds need their support right now, whether we like it or not. The Plegians would react poorly to their new allies assaulting them…again."

"Don't be ridiculous." Martin answered. "_You_ wouldn't raid the palace. _We_ would." He pointed to himself and Lyta. Lyta smiled at Cainne to show that she approved.

"You can't be serious." Cainne buried her face in her hands. "Why?"

"You know just as well as I that we can't let them keep the book." Martin answered. "And Lyta and I are the only ones who can go. I don't trust Aiden with…well, anything, and he's already done enough in this regard. I need you watching him. Shione would be useless without Anem, and a stealth operation in the middle of the desert isn't exactly ideal conditions for a large, winged horse. Lyta is an expert at this sort of thing, and you've already got a tactician leading you. I'm just taking up space right now, so it's best if I put myself to use."

"Chrom would never approve." Cainne was grasping at straws. His logic made sense, but she did not like the idea.

"I already checked it over with him. Made an excuse about personal issues that Lyta and I had to deal with here. He bought it. Grumbled something about the Shepherds already splitting, so why not…Anyway, my point is that it's already basically done. We're essentially in Plegia now, so the timing is perfect. Once we get off this island, Lyta and I will be heading inland. I just didn't want to run off without an explanation."

"I…fine." Cainne capitulated. "Just…come back to us as soon as possible, alright? And stay safe. I just reunited with one part of my family, I'd hate to lose another."

"Will do." Martin grinned at her.

"Say goodbye for us, alright?" Lyta asked.

"Why not say it yourself?" Cainne questioned.

"Because knowing them, they'd follow us off into the desert as soon as we said we were leaving. Whether it was a good idea or not."

"Yes, I suppose they would." Cainne smiled to herself. Even after all this time, they were still a family. "So don't go doing anything that would make me wish we all had gone after you, alright? Despite what you may think, I can't replace you so easily."

* * *

Law's End was the name of this place on the map, but Robin was beginning to understand just how wrong the map was. In reality, the place that was labeled "Law's End" was actually a cluster of small farm villages, geographically very close but ideologically separate. Though they were so close as to be essentially indistinguishable and all shared one large, ancient stone wall for protection, these clusters of buildings hated being lumped together. These were independent folk who took great pride in what they had created here, and they didn't like the idea of someone else taking credit for their hard work. The mercenary companies who were feuding just inside town only served to deepen the divides.

"I thought I told you last time that we don't want to see yer faces around these parts!" A general, red faced, was making quite the scene. He strode proudly around under a mountain of armor, doing his best to intimidate the other man there.

"Not on your life!" The other man, sitting astride an equally ill-tempered steed, replied. "We've been here longer than you, and this time we won't be off without a fight."

The Shepherds had been greeted by this confrontation essentially as soon as they'd entered the borders of the town. They'd had no more trouble leaving Carrion Isle and travelling to Law's End had only taken about a day, as Robin had predicted. Anna had disappeared almost the moment they had entered the town's borders in search of her sister. To Robin's surprise, Martin and Lyta had also left as soon as the ferry had reached the shoreline, stating that there were personal matters they had to attend to before they could commit to a war in Valm. He had wished them well and they'd gone their separate ways, and the Ylisseans had encountered no further trouble…until now.

These men had begun feuding right before the Shepherds had arrived, it seemed. And they did not appear ready to stop any time soon.

"Turn around and get lost, swine!" The red-faced general shouted at the paladin. "This land belongs to the Stonewall Knights! If you need a second notice, I'll write it down on your men's corpses!" the horseman just laughed, a guttural sound.

"A pile of corpses could still outfight you sorry lot!" He replied. "This is our territory, and no one gives orders to the Riders of Dawn!"

"What do you make of that?" Chrom cast a sideways glance to Robin and Frederick, nearby as always.

"Mercenaries, from the look." Frederick replied evenly. "Rival bands squabbling over some petty matter. A common enough sight in these dark times, milord. But if it comes to bloodletting, the nearby villages will pay for it."

"Then let's make sure it doesn't." Chrom quietly stated. Robin nodded. If necessary, the Shepherds might be able to step in and settle things diplomatically. Or at least, that had been the plan. Suddenly, fighting broke out between the thugs each mercenary had brought along, and though the leaders broke it up, neither seemed opposed to the idea of letting it continue.

"Stick 'em full'a holes, boys!" The general growled.

"Time to fertilize the fields, soldiers!" The cavalryman responded, before turning his steed around to prepare his soldiers. Unfortunately, the Shepherds happened to be in his way. "Who's this lot, then?"

"More sellswords?" the general noticed the Shepherds as well. "Your timing is right impeccable. I'll buy your steel and see you're well compensated for the trouble!"

"Well, diplomacy is probably out." Chrom sagely advised. "We could end this quickly if we backed one side or the other. Shall we ally ourselves with the knights?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." Robin began. "If we're here to-"

"There's a sensible lad." The paladin cut him off, sneering. "Come fight with us, instead! I'll pay you twice what that fool would!"

"Robin?" Chrom turned to him.

"As I was saying, if we're here to help the people of the town, getting rid of these thugs would be a good way to start." Robin told him. "Plus, I imagine these are the very same mercenaries that we came here to deal with."

"That would figure, wouldn't it?" Chrom sighed. "But maybe we can find a better solution. There may be more of them in hiding, you know. ...But I'll leave the final choice to you."

"Would you really be comfortable allying yourself to either of these men?" Robin answered.

"I might point out that we are currently making deals with far worse individuals." Frederick added. "And yet, I see his point. From my perspective, the best way to help the people here would be to prevent further altercations such as this one from arising."

"So be it." Chrom shrugged. "Heed me, both of you. Lay down your arms and surrender, by the order of Ylisse. There does not need to be any bloodshed today." In a surprising moment of unity, both men just spat at him. Reluctantly, Chrom drew his blade. "Shepherds, to arms!"

* * *

"This is ridiculous." Panne complained. Cainne would have smiled, had she not at that moment been transformed and sprinting through the forest.

"Come now, this is a solid plan." Cainne replied. "Think of us like a wolf pack."

"We are Taguel, not wolves." Panne retorted. "Besides, two is hardly a pack."

"Well, I'd get used to it. We're out here to deal with the mercenary horsemen." Cainne explained. "Considering that the Valmese happen to be equally fond of cavalry, I'd imagine Robin is using this as a test run, of sorts. We'll likely be working together much more frequently in the future."

"Joy." Panne replied drolly.

"Consider the bright side: by the time we're done, the others will have cleaned up the town and we'll probably be able to get hot meals out of this."

"I become more and more aware of just how human you are with every passing day."

Cainne would have laughed, had the enemy suddenly appeared through the treeline. A pair of riders, doing their best to maneuver through the forest and engage the knights guarding one of the entrances to the town. Why these Riders of Dawn thought that it was a good idea to fight in the woods like this, Cainne did not know. For their part, the Stonewall Knights were living up to their name and had taken defensive positions around the city. If they could hold, the Riders would be at a disadvantage. Unfortunately for the knights, the Shepherds were far more competent than the Riders and had likely already broken through elsewhere.

Panne tackled one of the horsemen while Cainne circled around the other, careful to keep him between herself and the knights. One of the knights struck the rider down while his back was turned, and Cainne in turn leapt upon the knight. If he had expected the beast's attacks to be ineffective against his heavy plate, he must have been surprised when razor sharp claws found the joints in his armor and tore through. Panne fell upon the other, having somewhat lesser luck but still knocking him off-balance. Cainne shifted forms, grabbed the first knight's lance, and finished the second one off with it. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to bring her own weapon with her, as Taguel did not have much in the way of pockets.

Panne, still in beast form, tilted her head towards a tree. Cainne understood. There was a third soldier on the other side, lying in ambush. Cainne snuck around the opposite side, lance at the ready. As she completed the maneuver, she readied to lunge at the knight.

Instead of a hidden foe, she found a terrified young man cowering beneath the tree, arms raised to protect his head. She wasn't even sure he'd noticed her. She cleared her throat, and the young man's head darted upright as he screamed. His long ears flopped around almost comically.

"Wh-what do you want?!" He stammered out. His eyes widened as he looked at his assailant.

"If I'm not mistaken…you're a Taguel."

"Yeah, well so are you!" He retorted, trying to get to his feet. His knees trembled, but he at least tried to be intimidating. "Speaking of which…how? I thought-"

"What have you found, Cainne?" Panne came around the other side of the tree, having reverted from her beast form.

"Another one? Where are-_Gods_! M-Mother!?"

"…Mother?" Panne responded, sounding just as confused as her supposed son.

"Gah, you nearly gave me heart failure! I'd given up on ever finding you!" The young Taguel replied. "You wouldn't believe how dangerous it is here. All these swords and brigands... Anyway, I've found you. That makes the trip back in time more than worth it."

"Oh, time travel. Of course." Cainne nodded.

"So you came with that man-spawn Lucina, did you?" Panne mused. "Now explain to me why my son consorts with common thugs."

"Huh? H-hey, I didn't have a choice in the matter!" he protested. "You were nowhere to be found, and roaming around alone is a recipe for...extinction. I figured I'd be safe if I took up with some strong allies."

"Seems fair." Cainne interjected. "I spent a fair portion of my life in a mercenary company."

"And you are not my son-"

"Who are you, anyway?" the Taguel who _was _Panne's son turned to face Cainne. "All my life, I was told that we were the only ones left. So where did you come from?"

"As I have explained to Lucina, I hail from Valm. I only traveled to Ylisse to investigate the phenomena caused by your friend's time travel. I did so, I may point out, as part of a mercenary company."

"Cainne, you are not helping." Panne growled. "As for you, my son…"

"Are you angry?" her son asked. "Because you look kind of ang-"

"Of course I am angry!" She shouted. "Though I don't know whether I am angrier at you for taking the path of the coward or at Cainne for being absolutely insufferable. Regardless, you're coming with me. I'm going to teach you some Taguel pride, starting right now!"

"Well, it appears we now have a proper pack." Cainne breathed. Thankfully, Panne was too occupied with her son to retort.

* * *

Lucina sidestepped a clumsy axe blow from her opponent, one of the so-called Stonewall Knights. She swept his legs out from underneath him, and the armored soldier fell hard onto his back. Weighed down with steel plate as he was, it seemed he couldn't get up.

"If I were you, I'd stay down." She pointed the tip of Falchion at him. He understood, and wisely chose to stop struggling.

Lucina was thankful. Though many of these mercenaries were hardly as dangerous as the Risen in her own time had been, she was still uncomfortable with fighting living, breathing people. Yes, there had been bandits and cultists in her time, people driven to desperation or madness by Grima's reign with whom she had crossed blades. But getting involved with a squabble between petty mercenaries like this was foreign to her.

Fortunately, her father was interested in causing as little lasting harm as possible to the town, and that seemed to include the mercenaries he faced. Although he was entirely capable of killing the thugs that challenged him, he seemed willing to let them off with little more than a sound thrashing, if they were in turn willing to accept his mercy.

Meanwhile, her mother was putting the agility of her mount to effective use, easily outmaneuvering the slow, cumbersome knights she faced. Though she wasn't often able to effectively deal with the enemy's plate armor, she was a marvelous distraction while the rest of the Shepherds closed in. Lucina had tried, once, to learn to fly like her mother. It hadn't been all too successful, and she now found herself somewhat envious of Sumia's domination of the battlefield.

It was strange that Lucina was even thinking these things. Somehow, against all odds, she had a family again.

"Watch it!"

Lucina turned around, but it seemed that the situation was resolving itself. Aiden, who'd called out to her in the first place, had already engaged the rider who'd been galloping towards her. Runes pulsed around him and dark energy collapsed around the horse and rider, killing both.

Lucina could safely say that she did not trust the strange swordsmaster. Even when they had first met in the desert, he'd been a very strange individual, one who'd seemed to have a vested interest in halting her progress. Now, she learned that he was a reformed Grimleal dark mage, thief, and estranged brother of a Taguel Lucina had never know existed. There was plenty to be suspicious of. In fact, he was almost too perfect a fit to be the one who betrayed Chrom.

He was not her only suspect. At the moment, she was suspicious of everyone who wasn't her father. Robin, for example, was almost as unusual and was one of her father's closest friends. But he did not seem to bear any malice towards Chrom. If anything, he did his best to protect her father.

"Hey, you awake?" Aiden waved at her. "I can't cover you forever while you glare at me."

"I don't trust you." She stated flatly.

"Yeah, you've made that much apparent. Whether you trust me or not, though, I'm on your side." He replied.

"Come, Lucina." Chrom called out to her. "If the Riders of Dawn have broken into the town, we need to bring an end to this before the villagers suffer. And I'll need you watching my back." He smiled at her.

"It may not be only our enemies you should fear, father."

"You aren't the first person to tell me that, you know." Chrom chuckled. "Do not let Robin know you agree with him. Besides, that's why I need you around, is it not?" Then, before she could stop him, he charged into the center of the battle.

"And Martin says I'm impulsive." Aiden wandered over next to her. "I suppose we should do something before he gets himself killed." Lucina cast a suspicious glance his way.

"There's no 'we' involved. And if you do anything-"

"I get it. Now, are you coming?" He too charged off. Lucina huffed, then followed.

* * *

Gods, this was insane. Why was he here? What had he been thinking, joining a mercenary group? Yeah, they were better than starving, but they were mercenaries! They fought for a living. And Yarne was not eager to go charging off into a fight. His species depended on it.

But here he was, doing exactly that. In front of him were not just one, but two other members of his own kind. His mother was the whole reason why he hadn't started cowering in a bush, and then there was this Cainne woman. Was she a friend of mother's? Why had he never heard of another living Taguel before now? Lucina's plan to travel through time had been crazy to begin with, but now things were becoming just bizarre. From the way his mother had spoken, she had even met Lucina. Where was the princess, anyway?

"They're breaking for the village!" Cainne called out. After she and mother had destroyed the position his former employers had occupied, the other mercenary group had taken advantage in the gap to try and break through. Some of them had charged past and Cainne and Panne clearly meant to pursue them right into the town. That would be the heart of the Stonewall Knight's defenses. Why was he always at the most dangerous place in a fight? Why was he fighting at all?

No, he had to be brave now. Lucina would be depending on him to be strong. His mother was here, and she expected more of him. He wouldn't fail Lucina and he wouldn't fail mother again. He steeled his nerve and followed them in.

As it turned out, he didn't need to worry so much. The knights were too busy with the rest of the Shepherds to even notice him. He thought he could see a blue-haired swordsman who could only be Chrom leading the charge from the other side of the town, but then Panne caught up to the riders who'd gotten past them and forced them to turn and fight. Yarne fought as only a Taguel could, literally leaping into the fray. He dodged and weaved, throwing off the horseman who wanted to kill him. Then, when the human couldn't keep up, the Taguel lunged in for the kill. Honestly, it wasn't too different from fighting any of those Risen who'd wanted to make him extinct over the years. As usual, his heart was pounding in his chest and he had broken into a cold sweat, but the enemy still died.

One of the Stonewall Knights caught him unawares, the axe whistling over his head causing Yarne to almost jump out of his hide. Immediately regretting his prior confidence, the Taguel backpedaled, trying to stay out of the way of the axe. Just as Yarne found himself backed against a stone wall, the knight pitched forward into the ground.

"Yarne?" his savior sheathed her rapier but kept her eyes on him, unsure of what she was seeing.

"Lucina!" He cheered. "You saved my hide! I mean, you're here! Whew!"

"I don't know why you're here, but it certainly is good to see you." She ruffled his fur, grinning. "It's been too long."

"Hey, easy on the fur!" Yarne protested. "But, yeah, it's great to see you too. And not just because you took care of that bad guy. I was almost extinct!"

"Yes, well, about that…" Lucina began.

"Oh, we've met." Yarne reassured her. "I'm confused, but I guess it's comforting knowing that I'm only the third-to-last Taguel."

"Making friends, are we?" A human Yarne didn't recognize nodded in his direction before turning back to Lucina.

"You should try it, brother." Cainne chuckled. "Now come, we've almost won. A few of the riders got into the town, but they're all that's left." They both sprinted towards the center of town, leaving Lucina and a stunned Yarne behind.

"Brother?" Yarne asked. He was sure he'd just misheard Cainne.

"_Fourth_-to-last Taguel." Lucina corrected. "And no, I don't understand it, either."

* * *

"I'll send your fat men and their fat-man armor sailing through the sky!" The commander of the Riders roared.

"Horse and rider both will be red smears across our shields!" The Stonewall general countered.

"They know we're here, right?" Robin asked. Chrom nodded, but he wasn't too sure himself. They certainly seemed preoccupied.

The two mercenaries fought each other to a standstill. Despite their bluster, neither could actually gain an advantage over the other. Eventually, they started to tire.

"What'd I miss?" An unfamiliar young man- Taguel?- came running up to the group. Chrom turned towards Panne.

"Time travel." She replied. Chrom nodded.

"Oh, look who's finally shown up!" The knight noticed the commotion. "Hey, bunny! Get your arse over here and earn your pay! Or are you just going to run off with your tail between your legs again?"

"I'm not working for you anymore!" The Taguel shouted back. "And I won't let you push me around!"

"That so?" The general grimaced. "Then come and fight me like the man you aren't!"

For a moment, the lad looked like he'd do just that. But as soon as the general raised his tomahawk, the Taguel's legs began to shake and he was overwhelmed by fear.

"Hey, we ain't done yet!" The rider growled, trying to get around the general's flank. His spear struck home, and the general collapsed to his knees. Panne evidently had decided enough was enough, and leapt upon the paladin. They struggled briefly, but soon he too was dead on the ground.

* * *

"The fighting is over, milord." Frederick finally caught up to his liege. He'd been worried about Chrom's safety. It wasn't like him to lose track of his lord so easily. "That should spare the villages from any further damage."

"Good." Chrom nodded. "Though I still don't understand why they had to fight in the first place."

"Competition, milord. A sad consequence of this war." Frederick explained. "Farm the land, and your fields are pillaged. Open a shop, and your goods are stolen. It's little wonder men take up steel and become mercenaries…or worse. There's only so much gold to go around, and so they fight for dominance."

"Seems they'll continue to do so until it's safe to be a farmer or merchant again." Chrom replied. Alas, it was true. They may have cleared out one group of mercenaries, but in these conditions there would always be more. "All the more reason for us to end things as quickly as possible."

"Well put, milord. Shall we be on our way?"

"We're relieved to be rid of the lot of 'em! No better than brigands, they were." A wizened man, likely a village elder, approached. "You have our thanks, sir." Chrom nodded. Frederick was about to return to clearing the pebbles away from their path when his liege stopped him.

"By the way, congratulations."

"Thank you, milord." Frederick smiled. Chrom must have noticed his valorous success against those knights earlier. "But no congratulations are necessary. It is my duty to fight for your cause."

"No, I…well, good job, but I meant about your son." Frederick blinked. His…son? He tried to resist the sudden onslaught of panic, but he must not have succeeded. "Frederick? Calm yourself!"

"What do you mean, milord?" Frederick tried to regain his composure. "How…when…"

"Easy, friend." Chrom grabbed hold of his shoulder. "I simply meant that one of Lucina's friends was in town. Your son from the future, by all accounts."

"I…oh." The knight breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he'd thought…he wasn't sure himself what he'd thought. "I suppose I should introduce myself, then." Chrom nodded in affirmation.

"Y-you scared me!" Frederick picked up the sound of a conversation as he drew closer. He could not hear as well as Panne, but he did not recognize the speaker. And yet, as he saw who it was, there could be no doubt that this young man was the Taguel in question. Frederick stayed back, seeing Panne was already talking to him.

"Don't go sneaking up behind people!" the young man…his son…continued. "You'll give them whiplash…"

"What is your name?" Panne asked.

"Yarne. Don't you remember? You're the one who gave it to me."

"So you truly are my child?" Panne asked after a moment.

"Um, I'm a Taguel, right? I kind of have to…er, yes. Yes I am."

"I will be honest, there was a moment where I wondered if you were my child or Cainne's…But I am pleased to see you, my son. You represent a new hope for our race."

"No pressure there…" Yarne replied, scratching his head. Frederick wondered if Panne had caught the sarcasm.

"You are living proof that man and Taguel can coexist."

"Hey, I didn't do anything special. I was just born. You're the one who proved all that bridging-the-gap stuff. You're the one who married a human." Yarne had cast his eyes downward. Even though Frederick realistically had just met him, the knight was already tempted to console him. "Er, thanks for doing that, by the way. Even if I can't take credit for it, I'm proud of my heritage."

"It gladdens me to see my son value pride." Panne smiled at him. "May you keep it always."

"If I may intrude…" Frederick spoke up, taking a deep breath. It was safe to say his training had not prepared him for a situation like this, but he would do his utmost, as always.

* * *

Robin sighed in relief. It seemed like the battle had gone well. No one had been badly hurt, and the Shepherds were actually walking away with one more ally than they had walked in with. With the gifts given by gracious villagers, they had done reasonably well for themselves. But the Shepherds weren't here just to clear out the mercenaries.

"Hey, Anna." He walked up to the merchant, who seemed oddly preoccupied with a pile of crates. "Any idea where this sister of yours is?"

"Excuse me?" She turned to him, a blank expression on her face. "Can I help you?"

"Er, yeah…" Robin answered. "You're sort of the reason why we're here. You said earlier that-"

"Oh, good, you've already met!" Anna- wait, Anna?- came running up to the pair. "Robin, this is my sister, Anna." Robin blinked. He was just now remembering that his merchant friend came from a large family of identical siblings. Who apparently also shared the same name. That was helpful.

"Anna?" The other Anna noticed her sister. "It's been so long! Are these the goatherds you said you were traveling with?"

"Shepherds, actually." Robin interjected. The comment was lost, however, as the siblings reminisced. Now that they were both in front of him, he could see that there were subtle differences between them. First of all, they pronounced each other's names slightly differently. However, the most telling was the way the other Anna wore her hair. She still had tied it up into a tail, but had also allowed it to drape over one side of her face, covering an eye.

"Anyway, have I got a proposition for you!" Anna the Shepherd told her sister. "My friend here is in need of some help getting somewhere very far away as quickly as possible."

"Has he tried the Outrealm gate?" Anna the shopkeeper asked.

"Not that far." Anna responded. "Just to Port Ferox. Besides, you know how unreliable that thing can be."

"Well, I've got just the thing!" The other Anna started digging through a crate, which Robin realized must have been her inventory. "I'll even give you a discount for clearing those nasty thugs out!"

"Anna," Robin turned to the one he knew, "what's going on here?"

"It's your lucky day, is what!" Anna laughed. "My sister happens to specialize in rare and exotic goods."

"Like what?" Robin asked, suddenly very nervous. Exotic goods? What did Anna have planned?

"Whatever you need!" The other one replied. "Magical equipment, crystal balls, frost bombs-"

"What?" Robin interjected.

"For whenever you need to freeze a town in solid ice!" Anna replied. "Guaranteed to work in any climate, with minimal harm to anyone inside."

"Why would anyone…how…" Robin shook his head. "Nevermind."

"I've also got novelty magic tomes, boxes that can draw Risen to you, hair dye, and…there we go!" The shopkeeper yanked a scroll out of the crate and with a flourish presented it to Robin. He didn't take it, fearing it would be as good as buying it.

"This right here," the Anna he knew gestured towards the scroll, "Is a rift door. We use them to get around all the time. We even sell them sometimes. This is one of those times."

"So you're saying we can use this to get to Port Ferox?" Robin asked suspiciously.

"Maybe not _we_." Anna admitted. "The scroll is generally good for one person. But with the right calibration, it'll get you anywhere you need to go, no problem! Though we don't advise using them to try and get into enemy territory. They're just as likely to go through the gate as you are."

"That's great and all, but I can't defend Port Ferox alone."

"Oh, I've got plenty more!" The other Anna said. "I'll give you a bulk discount!"

"Chrom?" Robin called out over his shoulder. "I'm gonna need you to approve a purchase!"

"What do you mean?" The prince called back, approaching the trio. "You've got control of the Shepherd's budget, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I have the feeling that this is going to be expensive." Robin groaned. "As in, tap into the royal treasury expensive."

* * *

"He seems nice." Cainne, as always, was annoyingly conversational.

"He's my son." Panne replied. It wasn't an answer so much as an attempt to reaffirm the strange reality of it all. Frederick had left to talk with him for a time, taking this with far more composure than herself. She suspected he'd done it on purpose, to allow her some time to adjust. Gods, she loved that human.

"The first of many, I think" Cainne said.

"I'm going to assume you mean that he will be the first of many children from the future, and not the first of many of my sons." Panne replied, deadpan.

"Unless you singlehandedly want to try and save the Taguel race, yes." Cainne answered. "It's strange, really. There's a saying about people and animals that 'breed like rabbits', but the actual rabbits-"

"Have you considered what might happen if your own child is one of the next to step into the past?" Panne cut her off.

"I don't think it works like that." Cainne replied. "No one from the future has known who I am so far, I doubt that I'm even around in their time, let alone with a mate and a child. In all likelihood, I'm dead."

"You act as if you do not care."

"Should I?" Cainne asked. "I mean, do you, knowing that some other you died a long time ago?"

"Of course!" Panne answered.

"Is that so, or are you more concerned that your son had to face life without a family as a result?" Cainne inquired.

"Both, I suppose." Panne answered after a pause. "Yarne's life has been a harsh one, yes, and I am aware that I am not truly the same mother as the one who died in that time. But it concerns me that there is something strong enough to kill me and threaten us all."

"But there isn't." Cainne replied. "Yarne is here to ensure just that. Lucina, as well. And I certainly won't stand idly by if my tribe is threatened."

"So we are a tribe, now? Last I checked, we were some sort of pack." Panne said with a slight smile.

"Not just us. The Shepherds. Whatever you choose to call us, be it a pack, a band, or a tribe, we are some sort of family."

"Perhaps. Some are more welcoming than others." Panne admitted. "Your brother seems to dislike me."

"You've talked, then?" Cainne guessed. "If he seemed unusually hostile, I wouldn't take it personally."

"How else am I to take it, exactly?"

"It isn't you he takes issue with." Cainne explained. "He may be Taguel by blood, but his spirit has always disagreed. I don't really know why, but it's how he's lived his life. Forgoing his stone for a blade, refusing to acknowledge his heritage…he simply chooses to live life according to his human instincts."

"And you simply accept this?" Panne asked. It was not a hostile question. Aiden's choices seemed alien to Panne, who had lived her whole life trying to protect what little of her kind was left. Then again, she had once thought the same of Cainne for failing to be as aloof and antisocial as Panne had been.

"I sometimes wonder if I had a part to play." Cainne replied. "I think he's always felt somewhat…separated from me, thanks to his wholly human appearance. Perhaps I simply drove the wedge deeper."

"You seem as close as siblings can be." Panne told her. "If what you fear is true, it hasn't affected your relationship with each other."

"Perhaps." Cainne admitted. "Though with the way things have been, I still worry…"

* * *

"Wow, you really do smell like a Taguel!"

Aiden stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around, a bemused smile on his face.

"You would be the second person to tell me that recently." He grumbled. "I'm starting to think the soap isn't working like it should."

"Oh, no! That's not- I mean, I didn't-" Yarne stammered on, then his head drooped. "Sorry." Aiden sighed. The poor kid didn't deserve his frustration, even if it was hidden by a half-hearted joke.

"Hey, it's fine." The swordsmaster gave the Taguel a friendly smile. "I was just joking. Do I really smell that bad?"

"Well, no, that's not what I meant." Yarne nervously replied. "You…well, every Taguel I've met has a certain smell to them, different than a human's. You look like a normal human, but your smell is like your sister's. Like my mother's."

"Is that so?" Aiden mused. "I guess I wouldn't know. I don't have the special senses you all have. Besides, the only Taguel I've ever known have been family. I sort of got used to any 'smells'." Hesitantly, Yarne chuckled.

"I guess…I guess I'm not too different, either." Yarne replied. "The only Taguel I ever knew was my mother, and before now…" He trailed off. The smile faded. "I haven't really tried identifying anyone by scent too often."

"So, uh…did you need something, or…?" Aiden tried to shift Yarne's attention.

"I kinda figured that I needed to meet you, you know?' Yarne answered. "Getting to know the people whose existence means I'm not the last Taguel, and all that. I thought that, maybe if I could remind myself that there were others of us out there, that maybe I could be more like you all. That maybe I could stop being so afraid…it, uh, hasn't worked yet."

"I'm not…" Aiden wanted to deny that he was part of any "us", but he stopped himself. It wasn't what Yarne needed to hear. "I'm nothing special. Everyone is afraid every now and then. From what I hear, you've spent your whole life on the run, and you've only been here and known us for, what? Two hours? That kind of change won't happen overnight."

"And if it never does?" Yarne asked. "This wouldn't be the first time I've tried to conquer my fears, you know."

"This time'll be different." Aiden answered, laying a hand on the young Taguel's shoulder. "Just trust me on this, alright? Hell…if you want, I can try to help."

"You mean it?" Yarne asked. "So, if I have questions, I could ask you?"

"I suppose…" Aiden's eyes narrowed. What could Yarne possibly want to know? Then, he saw his exit from this conversation. "But can it wait? Lucina's headed this way, and she hates me."

"Oh! I've been meaning to talk to her!" Yarne bolted upright. "And…you know…you can get away while she's occupied."

"See? You're already braver!" Aiden laughed, before bolting away as quickly as he could. He'd expected Yarne to be…different. What he'd found was a scared and confused young man who needed some help figuring out a life that suddenly wasn't trying to kill him at every turn.

Aiden couldn't be the help Yarne needed to deal with all of that. That task would fall to the Shepherds, to his mother and father, and to the others who would all struggle through similar circumstances together. But he could be a friend. After all, wasn't that what family was for?

* * *

"This is a terrible idea." Chrom grumbled.

"To be honest, it was actually a pretty good deal." Robin replied. "Which just makes me more suspicious, but-"

"That's not what I meant." Chrom told him. "While my coinpurse is certainly in pain, I'm more concerned about losing my last tactician."

"You'll be fine." Robin answered. "You must have picked up something watching me. Besides, how hard can clearing out a den of thieves even be for a trained military force?"

"Even if I can manage the situation on my own, you're still taking half my manpower." Chrom observed. "And I don't see why you have to be the one to lead the effort."

"Someone needs to coordinate the Feroxi defenses." Robin explained. "I promise, you'll do just fine on your own for a bit."

"Just…stay safe, alright?" Chrom asked. "Ylisse needs its tactician."

"Now who is telling who to be safe? I'll be careful if you are." Robin smirked, then grabbed a scroll and headed off.

Chrom watched as those Shepherds who had volunteered to follow Robin gathered into a loose line to grab their rift gates. Cordelia and Cherche would cover the air. Tharja, as always, wanted to stick close to Robin. Libra, in turn, was following Tharja. Henry, for reasons known only to himself, had also volunteered, as had Virion, Gregor, and Vaike. Miriel was enthralled with the idea of staying in a town for once, and had dragged Lon'qu with her. Rounding out the group were Donnel and Nowi. The rest were staying with Chrom.

As they winked out of reality one by one, Chrom was uneasy. But he assured himself that Robin and the others would be fine. They would all be fine. What was the worst that could happen?

* * *

As she packed her stock, Anna marveled at her fortune. First, those Shepherds had cleared out the goons that had been cutting into her profits. Then, they'd bought a sizable chunk of her wares, for an equally sizable sum of gold. Plus, she'd gotten to see one of her sisters! All in all, it had been a good day.

Silently, she retrieved one more rift gate from her cloak. She'd sold a bunch, sure, but she'd also made sure to keep plenty more. She had places to go, after all, and ferries cost money. A few moments later, a rift had appeared in the air in front of her.

Just as she was about to step through, it shimmered. Anna stopped. Rift gates didn't shimmer. Her family had made very sure that they were well-calibrated. They needed to be accurate. The only thing that could usually disrupt them was powerful magic in proximity of the start or end point. But then why had this one…

"Oh, dear." Anna muttered. "My customer satisfaction record is about to go out the window…"

* * *

_Nothing too revolutionary in this chapter, I'm afraid. It's one of those that more sets the stage for future events than anything else. But that does mean that, at least in my opinion, the next chapter might be a bit more interesting._

_I wrote the word "Taguel" a lot in this chapter. I suppose it's to be expected when dealing with Yarne, Panne, the twins, and their various interactions. I promise, future chapters won't have nearly the same density of rabbit-person talk as this one did. They will, however, be somewhat similar in terms of their focus. These time-travelers who are being introduced are important for reasons that I hope became apparent in the last chapter. I want to make sure I can flesh them out as characters and detail their interactions with my characters (after all, if you've played the game, you know who the time travelers are...the only things I can really introduce that might be new are things that aren't in the game script). This isn't to suggest the plot will stagnate…Valm is still making moves even as recruitment happens. But interwoven with main events will be secondary events like what happened in this chapter. Ideally, I'd be able to put together both main and secondary events, or at least two secondary events, in a single chapter so that I can avoid excess bloating…you'll see what I mean, hopefully. _

_As always, leave a review (I say this every time, and no one listens. That makes me sad.), thanks to everyone who has decided to follow or favorite, and author's notes will be up soonish. _


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